Vessel of Fire - Believer
by ElvenWhovian
Summary: Book 1 of 3 - Claire Bernhart is a 14 year old nerd who lives and breaths the Lord of the Rings books and movies. So it is no surprise to her when one night she has a very elaborate dream in which she goes to Middle-earth and is destined to be the hero of her own story. But as the dream goes on, she begins to wonder if things are not as they seem. No slash. PG-13 Violence.
1. Author's Note

**Author's Note**

In my creative writing class in junior high I learned that you should write about what you know. If there are two things in this life that I know it's my faith in Jesus Christ and the works of J. R. R. Tolkien. Thus, the story you have before you.

Some may say that this book and its possible subsequent sequels are too preachy. You may think what you like. These stories are stemmed from what I believe as a Christian. If you are a Christian, then I hope they encourage you. If you are not, I still hope you enjoy them. I am a big believer that a good story can be enjoyed by anyone regardless of their worldview. Not that I'm toting these as "good stories" but I've at least tried to accomplish that.

J. R. R. Tolkien's book _The Lord of the Rings_ changed my life completely back in 2003. I was in a bad place and by being drawn into the story, experiencing the journey along with the characters, and coming out on the other side, I became a better person. Not a perfect person, but one who knew which direction to go.

This story has been at least 13 years in the making. It started with a premise mixed with a crossover fic that spiraled into what it is today. As time has gone on small things have been added and changed, however I have kept the original setting that I first had over a decade ago in 2003. Of course I have to preface this with the statement that this story is fanfiction. I don't own _The Lord of the Rings_ or any of Tolkien's other works. I also don't own _The Chronicles of Narnia_ which were also a heavy influence on this story.

There are however several characters that are mine If they aren't familiar to you, that is probably the case. When in doubt, google it. It must also be noted that the name and basic appearance for the character of Elrain is based on a character one of my high school friends created. When we were in high school we had many of our characters cross over into each other's fanfiction. So credit where credit is due. You know who you are.

You don't have to be a detailed scholar of _The Lord of the Rings_ to enjoy this book and its subsequent sequels, but it does help. I've included notes on dates and events to help along the way. If you haven't read _The Lord of the Rings_ , I highly recommend it. The movies are great, but they don't do the epic tale justice.


	2. Prologue

"Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have summoned you by name; you are mine.

When you pass through the waters,

I will be with you;

and when you pass through the rivers,

they will not sweep over you.

When you walk through the fire,

you will not be burned;

the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord your God,

the Holy One of Israel, your Savior;"

 _Isaiah 43:1b-3a_

 **Prologue**

The sun was setting in a dazzling array of purple hues. High on a balcony in the center of the city of Catrel, a tall woman with long black hair looked out upon the end of day. She had been to many worlds before, but never had she seen anything so beautiful. Most realms had the standard orange sunset, but here the red dwarf star gave off shades of purple that made the finest amethysts look dull. Juxtaposed against the brilliant array of colors, were the crisscrossing lines of traffic. Anti-grav transports of every shape and size zipped along, bearing their drivers home after another day of city life.

The tall woman leaned on the railing of the balcony and looked down on the additional ground traffic below. There had been quite the stir in Catrel that day. One of the ambassadors from a neighboring planet had nearly been assassinated during a rally on the west side. Of course only a few individuals knew about the prevented crisis. The tall woman with the long black hair had seen to that. The job had been simple: find the assassin, stop him before he could take out the ambassador, and hand the perp over to the local authorities. Political tensions were high enough, so every person involved in the operation had agreed to keep the whole affair under wraps. The tall woman brushed a lock of her dark hair behind her ear and gazed at the street below thoughtfully. Though the job had ended well, she suspected that the assassin's conspirators wouldn't be too happy. She would have to be careful.

The tall woman heard a chime and turned to see a man walking toward her from a nearby elevator. He was well built with short buzzcut chestnut hair. He smiled when he saw her.

"Well done," he said joining her on the balcony. "You are quite the detective."

"That's why they sent me," the woman said with a crooked smile. "Though that usually isn't my MO."

"Well, perhaps this is more your thing," the man said handing her a small device. It was a data pad. She tapped the screen and the device buzzed to life. The woman examined it for a moment and her brow furrowed.

"Since when do I get a mission from a secondhand source? I usually get this kind of information from the _top_." She said the word _top_ slowly and with weight as she stared at the man intently.

He smiled again. "Don't ask me. I'm just the messenger." He paused awkwardly. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't read it. It's … interesting."

He gave her a second to inspect the contents of the data pad. As she scrolled through the information, her expression softened. "I've been to this world before," she said. "It will be a nice rest from all this tech."

"Don't fancy the technologically advanced worlds?"

"No. They smell like oil and plastic. But this world," she paused and tapped on the data pad in her hand. "This world I'm going to next is full of trees and mountains. And the stars shine brighter there than in any other world."

"Not sure if you've read this far yet," the man said, overly eager for her to finish, "but there is an individual you are supposed to find. Has a funny name."

The woman scrolled down more. "The Venë Faeur?"

"Yeah that's it," the man said chuckling to himself. "Sounds like something in the native tongue. Supposed to be some great warrior from an obscure legend. Apparently he or she is supposed to be a Realm Jumper, so you'll be in good company. Also the name of your contact is in there."

"Oh yes, " the woman responded as she continued to scroll down the screen, "I've met him before. He knows me... Well, he doesn't know who I _really_ am of course, but I've been there enough times to have established a rapport with most of the prominent locals."

"Sounds like this is a mission made just for you."

She looked up from the pad and stared out at the last rays of the setting sun. "I suppose it was time I went back. It's been a while. I just hope that whoever this Venë Faeur is, that they aren't completely clueless. The head of security for the ambassador was enough stupidity to last me a lifetime."

The man laughed and leaned on the rail casually, his back to the cityscape. "I heard about that. Who knew someone could be so distracted that he not only gets his weapon, credentials, and hat stolen, but then he doesn't even report it. Ridiculous. He deserved to be fired."

"You don't have to tell me," the woman said as she finished reading. She left the rail and crossed the room. A long black coat with a high collar was slung over the back of a chair. After she had slipped it on, popping the collar up as was her preferred style, she put the data pad into the coat pocket. As she did this, there was a dull booming sound. Both individuals turned, but showed no surprise. The sound had come from the closed double doors of the elevator.

"I thought they'd be quicker," the woman said with a sigh. "For all their tech they still don't know how to track people." She walked back to the balcony and the two people stood as calmly as they had before. Someone was coming up the elevator and the floor indicator chimed ominously.

The woman reached for her neck and pulled a silver chain from underneath her shirt collar. Hanging on the chain was a silver ring. She gave a yank and the necklace broke free. She slipped the ring into the palm of her hand.

"You know they are never going to stop asking me about this," the man said regretfully staring at the ring in her hand.

She looked up into his eyes with the same expression. "I know."

The man took a deep breath and leaned back, his arms held stiffly at his sides. "You need to make this look good."

She nodded. "Nothing personal. I hope we get to work together again."

"So do I."

The woman drew back her fist and punched the man in the jaw. He reeled back and she hit him again in the ribs. Doubling over and falling to his knees, he spit out a mouth full of blood. The woman struck him on the back and he went down completely, his face pressing into the floor.

The elevator opened. Seven armed men rushed out, their weapons swaying back and forth searching for a target. Looking around they saw a man lying bloody on the floor near the balcony. One of them went over and found that he was still conscious. "She got the better of me," he said weakly. "You have to stop her. She's that blasted detective who ratted us out."

The armed men searched the room, but the woman was nowhere to be found. There were no exits save the elevator. She had vanished, data pad and all, without a trace.


	3. The Girl

**The Girl**

Claire Bernhart fidgeted in her chair. She was nervous. More nervous than she had been in a while, though this had not been the first time she had been forced to endure such torment.

A young boy returned to his seat and the young girl next to him got up. There was only one more person between her and Claire. Claire stared down at her shaking hands. She rubbed her sweaty palms on the sides of her skirt nervously while trying to be discreet.

Soon the young girl next to her got up as well. Claire was next and she swallowed hard. She had spent days lamenting her fate. Why had she been recommended for this? Why did she have to be good enough to have to participate?

"You have everything you need," she told herself. "Don't think about it too much. Just go up there and do it. It will all be over soon."

Since the day she knew she would have to participate in this event, she thought herself very much like Frodo Baggins, carrying a heavy burden to a possibly tragic end. Yes, it was overly dramatic, but Claire couldn't help but make the comparison. She ate, slept, and breathed _The Lord of the Rings_. Since Christmas day of the previous year, when her mother had gifted her the BBC radio dramas, she had fallen in love with the story. She had seen the first two films, read all the books including the _Silmarillion_ , learned a bit of elvish, traced the genealogies of the main hobbit families, and memorized every line of the Dwarves' song "Far over the Misty Mountains", not to mention all the key dates and events from the calendar in Appendix B.

And today, a Saturday in mid September 2003, she wished she had a magic ring that would make her vanish. Being seen by the Dark Lord wouldn't be an issue if she could just get out of this situation.

The young girl in front of her finished and was making her way back to the seat next to Claire. The moment had come. The end of all things was at hand. Claire stood up and walked to her doom. Lord willing she would survive. She sat down and put her sheet music in place.

In her small uneventful life of 14 years, Claire had never encountered anything more loathsome to her existence than a piano recital. The only thing more tortuous might have been a spelling bee or worse, something involving math. Not only did she have to perform in front of a huge crowd of people, but she also had to sit through all the other kids and their pieces, witnessing their doom as well. They were all just as nervous as she was and anxiety hung in the auditorium like an oppressive cloud. She brushed her short wavy brown hair out of her face and behind her ears and took a deep breath.

The song was "Greensleeves", a common song amongst mid level piano students. She began to play the light and cheerful tune and her posture relaxed. She was going to make it.

Disaster struck. A wrong note. For a millisecond, she paused, found the correct note, and continued. Soon the song was over. She had gone a bit too fast at the end and she hadn't looked at her music like her teacher had told her. Claire had the unbreakable habit of memorizing the music instead of reading it. Nine times out of ten she pretended to read the sheet music while playing from memory. It was the only way to make it through these things in one piece. In Claire's mind, recitals were like going into battle and that meant doing what she had to do in order to make it through. All's fair in love and war as they say.

She returned to her seat and heaved a sigh of relief. It was over. The boy next to her got up and played a jolly ragtime tune. The next kid was the youngest in the group. He began to pick out a simple tune for his skill level but disaster soon struck him as well. He lost his place and struggled to find it in the worst possible way, trying every key on the piano accept the correct one.

The only thing worse than messing up yourself, was watching someone else mess up. Claire cringed along with the girl to her left as the boy came to the end of the song and tried his best to salvage his dignity. The parents clapped and the boy sat down. In a sad and morbid way it was nice to have someone else mess up that badly. That meant that all other songs would be compared to his in level of failure which meant that her missed note would most certainly be forgotten.

As Claire stepped out of the recital hall and into the adjacent foyer, her spirit was soaring. The piano trial was passed. And here, standing on the other side, all her dramatic musings seemed really dumb.

"Really Claire?" she thought to herself. "Like Frodo going to Mordor? You are such an idiot." She chuckled in spite of herself.

Making her way through the group of kids and highschool students, she spotted her friend Anna. Claire waved to catch her attention and then waded through the crowd to congratulate her.

"Great job Anna! Your piece sounded great!"

"Thanks! Your's sounded great too," Anna replied.

"Thanks," Claire said grinning and then added dramatically, "I'm _so_ over 'Greensleeves' it's not even funny." Claire paused awkwardly and then, changing the subject, she asked excitedly, "So have you seen the extended edition of _The Fellowship of the Ring_ yet?"

"No, I haven't," said Anna regretfully. Her response was monotone and she examined her piano book distractedly.

"Well it's really good! They have 35 minutes of extra scenes and a lot of them are stuff from the book. They even have a scene with Sam's rope in there! I thought they had left that out but they didn't. I have it on VHS. You should come over next Saturday and we can watch it." Claire was practically bouncing up and down. She was high on relief and her inner fangirl was spilling forth.

Anna smiled awkwardly. "I'd love to, but my family is taking a trip to visit my grandmother next weekend. Maybe another time."

"Oh ok," Claire said quickly. "That's fine. Just whenever."

Soon they were all dispersed to their cars. As Claire climbed into the front seat, her mother sensed her disappointed demeanor. "Did you ask Anna about watching _Lord of the Rings_ next weekend?"

"Yeah," Claire said regretfully. "Her family is gonna be out of town."

"Oh. Sorry. I know you are eager to show her the extended edition."

"Yeah," Claire said again. "It's ok." But on the inside it was not ok. She had been excited to show Anna _The Fellowship of the Ring Extended edition_ , but as usual, Claire was more excited about it than anyone else and no one seemed to share her enthusiasm. It wasn't a detriment to Anna of course. She just had her priorities elsewhere that was all. But Claire couldn't help feeling that here again was another in a long line of disappointments. Again she was being overly dramatic, but she didn't care.

Life was so boring in Georgia. For Claire, growing up in the south was a bust, especially in the early fall. It was September and it was still hot. She longed for the cooler weather when she could go have adventures in the woods without the risk of running into spiders, snakes, or worse...kudzu, the infamous weed of the south. As the car pulled up to her parent's house, she could glimpse just the faintest hint of orange spreading across the Tulip Poplar leaves.

Her father strode up to them as they exited the car. He had been working in the garden all morning and he wiped the sweat from his brow with an old shop cloth. As he caught Claire's eye, he put his fists in the air, a symbol of triumph, and asked, "Well, did you make it?"

Claire smiled sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Hey Hey!" her father cheered. He wrapped a strong arm around her as they went into the house. "You glad it's over?"

"Yes!" Claire said. Inside the door, she set her purse on a nearby table. "I hate recitals."

"You do great," her mother tutted. "It's not that big a deal. And you always do well. Unlike that one poor kid."

Claire smiled as she began to ascend the stairs. She couldn't wait to retreat and recover in her bedroom from the battles of the morning.


	4. The Realm Jumper

**The Realm Jumper**

There is a place that lies between worlds, a realm outside of the realms. Some see it as a thoroughfare. Some as emptiness. Some as a forest. None can say of its beginning or its end save the One who made it, yet all agree on one thing: Only good can live there. This Wood Between the Worlds, the avenue of Realm Jumpers and wayward travelers, is a holy place. All darkness that enters there begins to die. This is how the Maker protects the realms from the spread of each world's own darkness.

Amidst the trees lay pools, each one a doorway to each world. Yet to exit and enter these pools came with caveats and exceptions. Those who had been Realm Jumpers for may long years were familiar with the identity of each pool. Many had names known by all and many were yet to be entered.

The Realm Jumpers knew most of the worlds contained there. Appointed by the Maker Himself, this diverse group was made up of specially selected individuals from countless realms. They roamed the inbetween space carrying out missions and delivering messages. Usually their work was in the background. They were never out in front simply because their identities varied from world to world and such knowledge was held with deadly secrecy. Though evil could not survive there, evil could pass between in small instances, thus another charge of the Realm Jumpers was to take special note of those they met in the Wood and to keep the peace. In addition to these great tasks, they were given power and supernatural ability. These powers were varied and unpredictable making them all the more mysterious to those who met them. Yet all Realm Jumpers had one thing in common: a connection to the Maker Himself. This was their most unique attribute.

The tall woman with the long black hair was one of these Realm Jumpers and, after slipping on her ring, she came up out of one of these pools. Still dressed in her long black coat she stepped out of the water and onto the fresh green grass. She straightened her collar and then reached into her pocket to check on the data pad. Still there and still functional. Sometimes tech didn't fare well in the Wood.

She began to review the data pad once more and commit it to memory, but before she could read only a few lines, she heard a sound to her left. She turned and saw another person standing in pool about 30 feet away. The person was shorter than her with short brown wavy hair that hung just a few inches below the chin. It was a female and a young one at that. The young girl was wearing a medium length dress with a crimson and black striped leather garment worn over it. Her cloak was dark green, almost gray, and she wore a sword at her side. She was standing in a pool, its water rippling around her ankles. In her hand she held a ring similar to the woman's.

Yet the thing that surprised the woman the most was which particular pool the girl was standing in. It was the same one she would be going into in just a few moments. The very world specified in the contents on the data pad the woman held in her hand. For a moment she stared at the girl and then the thought struck her.

"No," she thought. "That can't be…"

Then the girl looked her direction and their eyes met. The girl and the woman gawked at each other for a moment with astonished expressions and the woman grew frustrated. If this was indeed the _Venë Faeur,_ then this mission would not be anything like she had anticipated. Quite the opposite in fact. One only had to look at this girl to see that she was out of her depth. Her brown eyes were wide with fear and she began to finger her ring as if to put it on.

"Wait," the woman began to say, but it was too late. The girl slipped on her ring, the bottom of the pool ceased to be, and the she slipped beneath the water with a gasp and a cry. The woman ran to the pool, but the girl was gone.

Before she could contemplate the matter further, she glanced to the side and observed the edge of another pool nearby. It was an old Realm Jumper trick to spot a recently exited pool. The compression of the grass around the edge and slight ripples still moving about in the normally still water were an indication. It was a safe bet that this strange girl had come from this pool, but this only made the woman's apprehensions increase.

In all the journeys and tasks of the Realm Jumpers, no world was as infamous as the one whose pool lay before her. It had once been busy in communication with other realms for countless ages. Then one day, indeed within a matter of hours, all Realm Jumpers were called out of that world with express instructions never to return. The Maker had laid sanctions on it, that no Realm Jumper should set foot therein unless expressly authorized, yet no authorization ever came. No word came from it and no one entered it. Thus it was named the "Silent World" by all.

Many had speculated as to what had happened. Some said it was because of a great disaster or perhaps some evil had overtaken it beyond repair. Yet those few Realm Jumpers who had been the last to leave reported strange occurrences upon their exit. They said that the very nature of that world had changed somehow. Some dramatic shift in the the fabric of reality had taken place.

If the woman read things right, this was the world the girl had come from. In the unmarked annals of years since the pool fell silent, none had ever emerged from its waters until now. The woman took deep steady breaths as she considered the ramifications. What kind of person would come from such a world? And why would such a person be needed in a realm like the one the girl had entered?

The woman knew that the only way to answer these questions was to follow her mission, find this girl, and perhaps get to the bottom of the mystery of the Silent World.

* * *

Not two hours later, the woman was making her way to the library. It was a warm early afternoon and the smell of the trees and the sound of distant waterfalls was a refreshing contrast to the tech ridden world she had just come from. As she at last entered the library, she observed small changes from her last visit like the position of the furniture and additions that had been made to the tall bookshelves. Many ancient artifacts lay strewn about the tables and chairs. Apparently the organization process wasn't quite yet complete.

Upon arrival to this world, the tall woman had traded her long black coat for a floor length dress. She had pulled her hair partly behind her head in the fashion of the locals and carried herself a little straighter in the spine. She had to keep up appearances if she was to blend in.

As she crossed the library, she noticed the proprietor of the place, a tall individual with similarly long black hair. He was dressed in long heavy robes that looked very old, yet well kept. He was leafing through an old book set upon a reading desk. The woman approached him from behind and sensing her presence he turned to look at her.

"Elrain," he said with a smile. "Welcome back. I had wondered when you would be returning to us."

She bowed slightly. "My Lord Elrond. I hope that my visit finds you well."

"Indeed," he said in a deeper tone. "I would ask where you have been in the wild world, but Middle-earth has been stranger and stranger of late."

"Indeed," said the tall woman with a confident expression. She was surprised that he had remembered her name. _Elrain_ was probably one of the names she was most fond of. Hearing her elvish title also reminded her of something else. She reached up and felt her ears. They were pointed like his. She had forgotten that this came with the disguise. The Realm Jumpers had a trick that was still not wholly understood by many. When they entered a world for the first time, they would find themselves conformed to the genetic makeup of the natives of that realm. Which kind of natives was not their decision, but the Maker's. Once that decision was made, they would revert whenever they re-entered that world. Elrain hadn't been surprised when she had first found herself to be an elf. They were a more serious race which matched her demeanor. Yet they were quite suspicious and proud which made blending in difficult.

Elrain took a deep breath and began to inquire concerning the purpose of her visit. "My Lord... If I may trouble you about elvish history, have you heard of any tales or records concerning a person called the _Venë Faeur_?"

Elrond paused and looked at her intently. He had a curious expression on his face.

"I have," he said at last. "Though there is little known about the Venë Faeur. Nothing but a paragraph from a scrap of an old document."

He walked slowly to one of the shelves and scanned the books. Reaching in amongst them, he pulled out what looked to be a picture frame. It was an ancient piece of paper pressed between two panes of glass framed in wood. He carried it to the reading desk and placed it before Elrain. The two stood side by side as they gazed at the ancient note. The paper looked like it was one peice of a paper that had been torn up, leaving only a short group of sentences cut off at the beginning and end.

From another shelf Elrond retrieved another piece of paper. "This," he said, "is the translation of the text into the common speech. It was translated by one of our frequent guests who has a love of poetry. Of course the original text was not a poem, but our translator said it sounded better."

And this is how the poem read:

 _Thus follows the account_

 _Of times yet to be known_

 _In visions of darkness_

 _Behold what has been shown._

 _The Venë Faeur shall come_

 _A traveler and reckoning_

 _A vanquisher of a great evil_

 _And a seer of future things._

 _A gaurdian of record_

 _From other lands shall be_

 _A great warrior in battle_

 _And the keeper of history_

"This text," Elrond said, "was written by Palanion the seer. He was one of the elves who founded Eregion. When it fell, he came with me to Rivendell and settled here for a time before traveling further south. No one in Middle-earth as of yet knows exactly what these words mean or who the Venë Faeur will be. One can surmise that this person will be a seer as well and rid the land of darkness. But the rest I cannot discern. Palanion left the valley in great haste and this scrap of paper was all that he left behind. I was never able to ask him of its meaning."

Elrain gazed at the ancient paper and her mind's eye flashed back to the image of the girl in the wood. This couldn't be her. Such a child couldn't be a seer; that was absurd. And how could someone so young defeat any sort of evil?

"Elrain?" Elrond said noticing her silence. She looked over at him and then back at the framed paper.

"Forgive me my Lord," she said softly. "The reason for my return has to do with this text. I have reason to believe that this Venë Faeur will be arriving soon, but as to where they shall appear I am not certain."

Elrond arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

"Yes," Elrain said confidently. She enjoyed surprising Elrond. He could be quite the know-it-all when it came to Elvish history and stumping him was very satisfying. "I cannot say how or when, but I believe that I am meant to help them when they arrive," she concluded.

"Elrain," Elrond said slowly as he began to return the frame to its place on the shelf. "You know that I have great respect for you…" He paused and gave her a curious look. For a moment she wondered if he wasn't quite as confused as she thought he was. The expression on his face was far from confused, but rather resolute. "What would lead you to such a conclusion?"

Evading his question, she backed away from the reading table. She smiled and gave a small bow. "Thank you Lord Elrond, but I really must be going. This has been most helpful. You are an excellent host."

Elrond gave a stiff acknowledgment. "You are most welcome," he said. She thought she detected the hint of a smile.

"What does he know that I don't," she wondered exiting the library. "Could such a person really be that young girl I saw?"

Yet before she could contemplate the matter further, something happened that changed all of her musings. She had a collision with someone coming around a corner. The person had been looking the complete different direction and slammed so hard into Elrain that they both staggered backward. The person immediately gave a gasp and profusely apologized, but stopped abruptly. She stopped because they both recognized each other.

It was the girl from the Wood.


	5. The Strange Trio

**The Strange Trio**

Claire slumped heavily into the pew as the congregation sat down. The pastor ascended the stage, took his place behind the pulpit, and opened his Bible. Claire flipped through the pages of her Bible, found the correct chapter and verse, and whipped out her church bulletin.

The pastor began to preach. Claire jotted down a few references in the note taking space provided, but was soon doodling in the margins of the folded printout in her hands. The empty space practically begged to be filled with drawings. Claire had been drawing since she was young enough to hold a pencil. Many years ago when she had been drawing in church, her Mother encouraged her to take notes by drawing scenes that had to do with the sermon. Claire took this as a challenge and began to draw elaborate pictures of Bible characters and scenes from Scripture. She also enjoyed doing a sketch of the pastor now and then. In more recent days however, Claire's drawings consisted mostly of characters from _The Lord of the Rings_.

After a few minutes, Claire glanced up from her drawing. She took in the sanctuary and spotted Gloria Edgeworth sitting with her family three pews forward and to the left. Claire's gaze narrowed as she stared at the redheaded high school freshman. It was safe to say that Claire didn't have any friends at church. She was the only homeschooler and the other kids in the youth group never let her forget it. The leader of the popular bunch was Gloria, the one person that Claire most likely considered a mortal enemy. Claire and Gloria had many a spat in and out of the Sunday school classroom throughout the past five years. Gloria had once made fun of Claire's home-made duct tape Bible cover. But Claire had gotten the best of her later when she won the class prize for naming all of the disciples. In more recent days they took to simply glaring at each other. Such silly rivalry wasn't becoming to them now that they were in high school; at least that was Claire's opinion. However this didn't stop her from glancing at Gloria every once in a while and thinking about how rude and awful she was.

Claire looked back down at her bulletin and continued drawing. She had started to draw an elaborate celtic cross, erased it, and instead began to draw an elf woman with long black hair and high cheek bones. Next she moved on to a hobbit that started out as Frodo, but with a few subtle changes, became Peregrin Took.

Peregrin had always been her favorite character. She related to him the most in that she was always the youngest of any group, she said dumb stuff at the worst times, and she was always asking questions to the annoyance of most.

As she finished the last pencil stroke on Peregrin's pointed ears, she remembered something. "Tomorrow is Bilbo's birthday," she thought. She smiled and reached up to finger the replica of the One Ring of Power that she wore on a chain around her neck. This nerdy token was another source of ridicule for Gloria and the populars that followed in her wake. Many of the homeschoolers in Claire's circle chose to wear a replica of the One Ring as a symbol of nerd pride. You could either buy the gold plated replica from the _Lord of the Rings_ fanclub magazine, of which Claire was a subscriber, or you could just purchase the $5 _Lord of the Rings_ bookmark from Booksamillion. The bookmark featured a cheap pewter ring tied to the tassel. This was the option Claire had chosen.

Claire pulled the said bookmark from another page in her Bible. It had a picture of Faramir on it from the second _Lord of the Rings_ film, _The Two Towers_. She thought about how perturbed she had been that the film had painted him a villain at first. It had been a major deviation from the book and she and her purist friends hadn't been too happy about it. She fingered the piece of glossy cardstock for a moment and then tucked it back between the pages. She glanced over at Gloria in disgust. "She probably doesn't care about Bilbo's Birthday," she thought to herself. "Whatever Gloria. Loser."

She went back to her bulletin. The pastor referenced a scripture in another part of the Bible. Claire turned the pages in her Bible mechanically and jotted it down, but was still thinking about Gloria. She was so preoccupied that she didn't even bother to turn back to the main verse.

For Claire, Gloria represented everything that was annoying about modern Christianity. All her life Claire had been told about God and Jesus and all the other Bible stuff, but something never added up. The Christians she had grown up with talked about all the wondrous things of the Bible: How God created the world, became a man, broke the curse of sin by dying for humanity, and thus defeated death. How terribly epic it all was! And not only that, but the Bible itself was wondrous. The very Word of God in the hands of humans. What incredible realities these were! They had pierced Claire's heart nearly four years ago and the realization of such wonder had opened her eyes to truth that she couldn't deny.

The behavior of the Christians around her however did not match up with what they taught. The adults seemed more concerned with committee meetings, building funds, and attendance than the incredible reality that sat in their laps every Sunday. Not that those things weren't important, but priorities told a lot about the heart of a person. The kids at Church were also taught about the love of Christ and then people like Gloria turned around and called Claire a freak. Everyone talked about the supernatural power of God, but when crisis came, they panicked and stepped on each other to get their own way. It was such a contradiction, it made Claire's head hurt.

Not everyone was this way however. Her parents practiced what they preached and they seemed to have an understanding that many lacked. Not that they knew things that people didn't. They just seemed to have more perspective, their priorities more precise. Or perhaps Claire was biased because they were her parents. Claire wasn't entirely sure. All she knew was that from all her years in the typical "Southern" Church it was plain that more often than naught people cared more about themselves than God.

Over the years, this sub-conscious ideology had seeped into Claire's psyche. Her faith had grown weak. God didn't do anything miraculous anymore it seemed. She didn't take studying the Bible seriously. It was just an expectation she had to meet to gain the favor of those around her. She knew the Bible backwards and forwards anyway. It seemed like most modern Christians only needed God when their cushy lives were disrupted and this ideology left Claire empty. So empty that she knew it wasn't right. This prevailing attitude of man before God, me before you, tradition over reality, didn't feel right.

Claire knew what it meant to be a Christian. She understood and accepted Christ long ago. Yet being a Christian was one of the reasons why people like Gloria made her so angry. If Gloria was supposed to be a Christian too, why didn't she act like one? Wasn't there supposed to be unity?

Religion was based in belief. Belief in something greater than yourself. Claire was certain that God existed and that the Bible was what it claimed to be, but experience told a different story. She had felt something 4 years ago, but since then she began to wonder how things really were. True belief was a thing that seemed distant and unattainable. There were too many doubts swirling in her addled teenage brain to let her settle on what she actually believed. She wished that she could find something solid, something tangible to verify what she believed. Wasn't that to be expected? God didn't want his people to believe blindly did He?

Claire looked away from Gloria and back to her drawing of the tall elf with the dark hair standing next to Peregrin Took. She began to doodle again, but this time it was a character of her own design. She had always been fascinated with dragons and over the years she had begun to draw more humanoid dragon designs. The figure she drew had a long graceful neck and a horse-like head with two long horns jutting out of the back of its head. It was a female and wore a knee length dress. The creature Claire designed also had large bat-like wings that were folded to its back.

As she drew, her mind shifted gears back to a more palatable subject: Middle-earth. "Oh to go to Middle-earth," she thought. "Where friendships are real and people know what they are fighting for." In Claire's mind, Middle-earth held more happiness and potential than her own. Good and evil were so well defined and true friends gave their lives for each other. She had yet to witness a friendship like that first hand.

"If only it were all real. I wish I could go there," she thought to herself as she put the finishing touches on her drawing. She could sense the sermon was wrapping up and she clicked the led back into her pencil. She took one last look at her drawing of the three figures. The Elf, the Hobbit, and the dragon lady. "A strange trio if there ever was one," Claire thought. She tucked the bulletin in her Bible and stood again for the benediction.


	6. The Task

**The Task**

Claire was vaguely aware of the sound of water splashing around her. As she opened her eyes she noticed how blue and green everything was. There was a stillness like she had never known and it was refreshing to say the least. She looked down and saw her bare feet on the soft grass. She was wearing pajamas for some reason.

Someone was singing. A woman with a clear voice. Claire looked around but she couldn't see the singer. She took few more steps. There were trees everywhere but not a single weed or shrub on the ground. This was definitely no wood in the south, especially in the fall.

Then Claire stopped and listened more carefully. "I know that song," she thought to herself. "It's...it's…" The revelation was like someone clapping their hands in front of her face. She jerked back in surprise.

"Greensleeves?" she said aloud. Her voice seemed to defile the air and she clamped her hand over her mouth. "Seriously?" she muttered to herself. And then she began to comprehend what was happening.

"How did I get here? Is this…? This is the Wood Between the Worlds. I must be dreaming."

The singing continued. Claire could make out words in the song, but they were not in english. She spun around again, but this time she saw the singer. It was a woman, standing about 20 feet away. She was standing close to where Claire had been earlier. The woman was tall, at least 6 feet. Her skin was an olive shade and her hair… Claire couldn't tell if it was green or black. It glistened like wet leaves in the sunshine and hung nearly to the woman's knees. The singer was dressed in very strange clothes, like something out of a fantasy world. As Claire drew closer, she saw her face. The woman turned to look at Claire but kept singing. Her eyes were a deep green and piercing. She wore an elaborate headband that featured leaves and gems that Claire didn't recognize.

The woman finished her song and she stood silently looking at Claire.

"This has to be a dream," Claire thought. "I've been reading too much _Narnia_."

"Welcome Realm Jumper," the woman said at last. "I am Yavanna of the Valar. I have been sent to give you your task."

At this point Claire was very much sure that this was a dream. She knew how dreams usually worked. How they often featured things in waking life mashed together in a bizarre scenario. She was in the Wood Between the Worlds from her favorite _Narnia_ story, she was talking to her favorite of the Valar from the _Silmarillion_ , and on top of that "Greensleeves", the bane of her existence for the past three months, had made an appearance. This was most definitely a dream, which also explained how she didn't remember how she got there. One usually doesn't remember the beginning of a dream.

She turned her attention back to the Yavanna. The Vala was waiting patiently for her response.

"What task?" Claire asked.

"Your task as a Realm Jumper. Eru's task."

"Realm Jumper?"

"You wished to go to Middle-earth did you not?"

"Um, I suppose so." A faint memory of a Sunday church service buzzed in her mind.

"Eru has heard your request and has offered you an opportunity," Yavanna said. She took a few steps toward a nearby pool. It was the one that Claire vaguely remembered coming out of. "One of such knowledge is needed," she said.

Claire stood awkwardly before the Vala. Now that she knew this was a dream, and an extremely lucid one at that, she didn't know what to do with herself.

"I know that this is all very new to one of your standing," Yavanna said, the hint of a smile on her lips. Claire nodded. "I shall explain all then." The Vala strode over to a pool nearby Claire's pool. When she stood by its edge, she turned to face Claire and then began.

"There is great peril in Middle-earth in the recent years, but there is one danger that none know of. Long years ago she came to our realm when Sauron the Deceiver was driven out of Mirkwood. One of the fallen, of the Maiar is she. What her name was at the beginning none rightly remember, but in her twisted state she is known only as Morlyg the cunning."

At Yavanna's last few words, Claire felt a shiver go down her spine.

"This dark one has come into possession of a book. A book from your world that tells of the days to come and those who shall play a vital part. With it she plans to turn the tide to her master's favor. You know of this book, for it is from your world. That is why you are needed. You have great knowledge that will aid you in preventing her corruption of time."

"Hold on," Claire said with a raised hand. Her thinking was becoming more clear. Though this was indeed a dream, a question was raised in her mind. "Why was I chosen? If you need someone who knows this book, which I assume is _The Lord of the Rings_ , then there are countless other people who know it better than I do."

"You asked," Yavanna said pointedly.

Claire's brow furrowed. "You mean because I asked that makes me qualified? I don't have to prove myself or anything?"

"Eru is wise in His choices. But you must also accept this call. It is an offer. Nothing more."

"But if I refuse, who will stop this Mor...lynn thing?"

Yavanna looked at Claire with knowing eyes. She smiled and said, "To take on this task is no small matter. You must defeat a great evil and when the task is done only Eru knows how it will change you. Do you accept it?"

It was evident that Yavanna wasn't going to answer her question, yet Claire didn't feel like she was being coerced. The terms and conditions were clear. She was being asked to go to Middle-earth and defeat some demon with the power of her nerdy Tolkien knowledge. But she also was now very aware that this was a dream, and that realization was beginning to make her very excited. Middle-earth, the Valar, and the Wood Between the Worlds were obviously not real, but man did she want them to be. This was an opportunity to live her dream. To be the hero of her own story. Maybe if it got lucid enough she could fly. Or perhaps this would be more like the Holodecks in _Star Trek_. She should play along and enjoy the ride. "Why the heck not?" she thought to herself.

"I accept," Claire said with a raised chin. Now being a "freak" was going to pay off. Take that Gloria.

"So be it," Yavanna said firmly. She waved her hand in the air in a circular motion. At first Claire wondered what that did, but then she looked down at herself. She gasped when she saw the get up that suddenly appeared on her person. Her pajamas were gone and she was now wearing a cotton dress that came to the middle of her calf. The dress was brown with long sleeves which extended down to just below her elbows. Over this she wore a black and crimson leather vest that was very long, almost like another dress on top of the cotton one. There were slits in the sides and the front and back flowed down to a point allowing more freedom of motion than a regular skirt. The vest was fastened at her neck by an obsidian clasp at the at the center of the collar. She wore a leather belt fastened with a silver buckle. On her shoulders hung a grey/green hooded cloak, held together by a simple large black button. Yet the best part of the outfit were the boots that she wore. They were of soft dark brown leather and fit perfectly.

After examining the extraordinary costume, Claire saw at her feet a leather bag. It had long straps and buckles that allowed it to be worn across her shoulders or back in almost any way. Before she could lean down and examine it, Yavanna said, "Three things from your world you may take with you. Choose them wisely."

Claire gave her a quizzical look and then gave it a moment's thought. What would one need for an adventure in Middle-earth? After a moment she had them: A copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ (to cheat off of), a compass for navigation, and a Bible. She wasn't sure why she picked a Bible, but it seemed the "good Christian" thing to do at the time.

She started to tell Yavanna what she had picked, but the Vala only pointed at the bag. Picking it up Claire found all three things already inside. She was fascinated to find that the copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ was very much like her own back home, a paperback edition with a picture of Ian McKellen as Gandalf on the front.

"Eru has four gifts for you," Yavanna said. "First is a tool."

Claire thought she might fall over. The sudden weight that hung on her left side threw her off balance. When she recovered, she looked down to behold a sword hanging in a scabbard on her belt. She reached across her torso with her right hand and drew out the blade. It sang into the air shining in the teal tint of the Wood. It was perfectly balanced with a double handed grip. Claire thought she might cry. This was the best dream ever! A sword that was hers? It was something she had always fantasized about.`

"The second is your Realm Jumping ring."

There was no sudden weight, but Claire felt a scratching on the back of her neck. When she reached up to feel it she found a silver chain with a ring hanging on it much like she wore in her own world. "This" the Vala said, "Is to enter and leave these pools. Step in and slip it on and you will enter that world. Slip it on inside the world and you will find yourself here. Once you step from the pool, the process begins again."

After a short pause, Yavanna continued. "The third is a companion for your protection. But you shall meet them later in your journey."

Then a grave expression spread across the Vala's face. Claire wondered if the light had grown dimmer at the sight of her. The Vala grew more serious than she had been since her song had ended.

"The fourth," Yavanna said slowly, "Is an opportunity to correct the past. Because of the nature of your quest, Eru has given you one chance to go back through time and correct what cannot be undone. To do this you must put on your ring whilst clutching the hand of another. You must also have your sword hanging at your side. Together, you and your companion must come here and reenter the pool. You shall go back in mind only to redeem the wrongs that have been done."

Claire's face had a goofy expression. "Time travel?" she thought incredulously. "Ok...this is definitely a dream because this is all stuff that I have always wanted to do." But even as she thought about the possibility of time travel, Yavanna's face made her enthusiasm wane.

"I must warn you," Yavanna said. "This opportunity is only to be used at the greatest of need. There must be irreversible harm done to warrant its use. And even then, retreading the past will have it's consequences. Do not use it unless you must."

Claire nodded vigorously. The Vala brightened. "Now I must give you your instructions."

"Instructions? Really?" Claire mused to herself. "This is the most complicated dream I have ever had."

"When you enter the pool," Yavanna began, "You will find yourself at the house of Elrond half-elven. Knock on the door and request to speak to him. Tell him that you are the Venë Faeur. This is your title, but I advise you tell it to as few as you possibly can. You must choose another name for yourself. Keep your identity a secret, for it may prove grave if your name is spread abroad. Stay in Rivendell until one month before the Fellowship leaves. Then you must travel to Lothlorien and seek the Lady Galadriel. She shall tell you which way to go. It is after her words that Morlyg shall strike first. Beware young one! For Morlyg can appear in the form of others, though she has her limits in the physical realm. Therefore be careful in whom you put your trust. To defeat her, you must destroy her heart. Only then will she be cast into the void and banished from Middle-earth forever."

Yavanna looked like she had finished. She began to walk away, but then turned to look back at Claire. "Trust in Eru," she said softly. "Only then will you live up to your name. Your journey will end when your heart is ready. Farewell."

The Vala strode behind a tree and vanished. Claire was now alone in the Wood Between the Worlds.


	7. The Last Homely House

**The Last Homely House**

For a few minutes Claire just stood there. She thought that at any moment she would wake up. It was her kind of luck to have such things happen and then have them end so soon. But the longer things went on the more confident she felt, though she still didn't take it very seriously. "Ok then," she muttered. "I'll play along."

She strode over to the pool that Yavanna had indicated was Middle-earth. She stepped into the water and found that it was only a few inches deep. As she stood there in the crazy outfit with a sword at her side and a quest before her, the fleeting thought that this was in fact all real entered her mind. "Of course not," she scolded herself. "There are too many weird coincidences. This is definitely a really crazy awesome lucid dream and I am going to enjoy it for as long as I can."

She took her ring off of it's chain. She had been ready to zip into the pool when it touched her skin, but nothing had happened. She assumed that the inside had to make full contact to work, or rather it had to be completely on your finger much like the One Ring of Power.

Her musings on the working of Realm Jumper rings was cut short when she heard something. She looked to her right and saw a person about 30 feet away. It was a woman with dark black hair and an even darker long black coat. She might have walked over to say hello if the woman hadn't had such a bizarre expression on her face. It was anything but friendly. And on top of that the woman was incredibly and unnaturally tall.

Suddenly Claire was overcome with the terrifying prospect of meeting someone from another world. Memories of reading about Jadis of Charn popped into her head. Otherworldly phantasms and terrors that only showed up in scary stories or nightmares. This woman definitely wasn't the White Witch, but she could have been something like that for all Claire knew.

The panic that gripped Claire was uncanny and before she knew what she was doing, she had slipped her ring on her finger. It was like someone had grabbed her by the ankles and pulled her under. Water whooshed in her ears and darkness swallowed her. Lights began to whizz by and reality bent until she found herself standing on solid ground. The whole experience took no longer than 10 seconds, but Claire stood still on her feet for about 2 full minutes just trying to get her bearings. At first she thought she might throw up, but as soon as she started breathing normally she felt better.

The breathing was the first thing she noticed. Something was different about the air. It was clearer and had a distinct taste to it. The second thing she noticed was the sound of distant waterfalls. She looked around and saw that she was standing on a path through a well kept wood. It looked to be mid-morning for the sun was not yet at its highest. Ahead of her, further up the trail was a narrow stone bridge leading up to a large structure. Below the bridge was a stream of swiftly running water. The air was warm, but the faint hint of autumn hung amidst the trees. She made her way carefully across the bridge and soon found herself in front of two very large doors set into a large wall. They were ornately carved and the wood was dark and shiny with age.

She reviewed her name in her head a few times. It was surprising to her that she remembered it at all.

"Venë Faeur. Venë Faeur. That's the name you are supposed to give them."

She knocked on the door softly at first, but when that seemed to be too quiet she rapped a bit louder.

"Who's there?" a voice called out. She looked up and now saw that there was a someone peering over the wall that the gate was set in. The sun was just at the right spot as to put the speaker in shadow. She squinted up at him and said, "I am the Venë Faeur." She paused and added, "May I speak with Lord Elrond please?"

"One moment," said the speaker as his head disappeared over the wall. Five minutes passed and no one came back. "I suppose it takes a while to find Elrond," she muttered to herself. The birds were singing clear now and a gentle breeze was drifting through the valley. The area was surrounded by mountains capped with snow. Claire wondered at them. She had only seen snow capped mountains once before when her family had visited Utah some years before.

At last she heard movement behind the gate. The large doors creaked open by about three feet and an elf man stepped out. He wore a long heavy robe and was evidently someone important. His long black hair was pulled tightly behind his ears and his face was stern. He eyed Claire keenly before asking, "You are the Venë Faeur?"

"Yes Sir," she said.

The elf arched an eyebrow and continued to study her. Claire kept telling herself that this was like the holodeck in _Star Trek_ and that all she had to do was play along. Yet the judgemental eye of this elf made her feel awkward and uncomfortable.

"Indeed," he said at last. "I am Elrond half-elven." Claire gazed at him in wonder, mouth agape. "You are quite welcome to stay in Rivendell young lady," he continued. "But I find it hard to believe that you are who you say you are."

Claire was speechless. This was unexpected. How could she possibly prove herself?

"What would you have me do to prove who I am," she inquired meekly, still in awe that she was talking to Elrond himself.

"It is said that the Venë Faeur will have knowledge of the future," he said. "Do you have such knowledge?"

Claire nodded vigorously and Elrond's expression changed from suspicion to utter bemusement. "Then what prophesy would you give me to verify your claim," the elf Lord asked.

Claire thought for a moment. Her mind raced to think of dates and events that would be happening soon and then the obvious question came to her.

"What day is it," she asked.

"September the 22nd."

She almost laughed. "Of course," she thought. "That _is_ today. Funny how my dream is matching up with dates and things."

After some contemplation under the keen eye of Elrond, Claire at last had her solution. "Frodo Baggins is on his way to Rivendell," she said, her countenance a bit bolder than before. "He will wake on October the 24th at 10 o'clock in the morning." She was of course quoting Gandalf's words to Frodo in her head. She smiled as Elrond's bemusement continued.

"This is going to be fun," she thought to herself. "Like a giant _Lord of the Rings_ trivia game."

"If I may," Claire said further, her confidence rising. "Could I please stay in Rivendell for the next month? If my prediction does not come true, you may kick me out if you like. However if it does, may I stay until the 25th of November?"

Elrond stood amazed at the specificity of her request, but his expression at last softened. "Well met my Lady," he said. "And yes. I believe that is a sound arrangement." He turned and signaled for the gates to be opened further.

As the doors flew wide and Claire entered, she gazed up in wonder. Elvish architecture was a thing to behold and just the idea of being in Rivendell filled her with awe. She followed Elrond through courtyards and hallways. Everywhere elves were going about their business and Claire felt dizzy from turning around and around as she took it all in.

At last they made their way to one of the larger areas in Rivendell. It was a hall filled with pillars and seats of various shapes and sizes. In the center of the room, amidst the pillars, was an enormous hearth with a well supplied crackling fire. And in one chair nearby sat a person who seemed a bit out of place. He was smaller than an elf, though he had large pointed ears that stuck out from underneath his curly hair. Claire stifled a squeal when she realized who it was.

Elrond stepped up to the small person's chair and tapped him on the shoulder. When the person turned Claire was again gaping in wonder. "This is Mr. Bilbo Baggins," Elrond said. Then he turned to Bilbo. "This young lady will be staying here for awhile. Would you mind showing her the way to the guest house and answering any questions she may have along the way?"

Bilbo smiled, his quaint face wrinkling in approval. "Of course," he said cheerfully. He put down the book he had been reading and stood up. He was definitely frailer than Claire imagined, but that was to be expected after nearly 17 years of not possessing the One Ring. The hobbit reached for a cane and hobbled up to Claire. She bent down to take his extended hand.

"Pleased to meet you my dear," he said. He reminded her of a grandfather, the kind that gets no greater pleasure than from family visiting. Though he was much shorter than any grandfather she had ever met.

"And what is your name my dear," Bilbo asked.

"Clai-," she began to say, but stopped mid syllable remembering Yavanna's instruction about not giving her name to everyone. "Oh," she then said aloud, flustered at her own forgetful awkwardness. She would have to think of a cover name for herself, but this only made her more frustrated. Claire had always been terrible at coming up with fake names.

"Clai-oh," the hobbit said with a tone of surprise. "That's a lovely name. How do you spell that?"

Claire paused and then said slowly, "C-L-A...E-O?" The last two letters where almost a question. She was terrible at spelling and evidently more terrible at spelling words made up on the fly.

"Well it's lovely," Bilbo said with a smile. "Very unique. Sounds like a hobbit name if you don't mind my saying."

"D - don't mind at all," Claire stammered.

Bilbo led Claire out of the hall, across another courtyard, and up to the guest house on the west side of the valley. Along the way he pointed out all the key places of note like the dining hall, stargazing gardens, and various trails along the waterfalls. When they at last came to her room, Claire began to wonder if there wasn't some sort of mistake. An entire wall of her room was a huge window that looked out on the valley and the view was breathtaking. On one end of the room was a dresser of sorts with a mirror and pegs for coats set into the wall. On the other end was a bed with an ornately carved headrest.

For the first time since she had come to Middle-earth, Claire slid her pack off of her back. She set it on the bed and sat down next to it. "Don't wake up. Don't wake up," was all she could think. This was most definitely a dream and she was going to enjoy it as long as she could.

She caught a sight of herself in the mirror on the other side of the room. The first thing she noticed was that she wasn't wearing glasses. She was blind as a bat in her own world without them, but it didn't seem odd that she wouldn't have them in a dream. The second thing she noticed was how silly she looked. She had always looked younger than she was and in the ridiculous outfit she wore, she looked like a middle school kid ready for halloween night.

Midday was nearing so Bilbo invited Claire to join him for lunch. They both made their way to the dining hall and there Claire partook of the best food she had ever eaten. Everything was fresh beyond words and the water had that same distinct taste that the air had. While they supped, Bilbo told Claire all about his birthday festivities that were planned for that evening. She was beyond excited that she would be able to attend and had to make a point to tone down her enthusiasm. She couldn't let on that she knew practically everything about the hobbit that sat with her. As he began to tell her about his last birthday in the Shire, she raised her eyebrows and nodded, an expression of feigned surprise on her face. When he told her of his final speech, she legitimately laughed out loud. Hearing it come from him was better than reading the book any day.

After lunch they parted ways and Claire went exploring. She walked the perimeter of the house first, taking in the waterfalls and majestic mountains. Then she moved inside and explored the halls. As she came through one hallway, she caught sight of aparticularly beautiful view of the valley through a nearby balcony.

She was so preoccupied with the view that she didn't see the other person coming around the corner at the same time. The two of them collided and Claire staggered back with an "Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry," but when she looked up and saw the face of the person, she froze.

It was the tall woman from the wood.


	8. The Meeting

**The Meeting**

Elrain stared at the girl for a minute before speaking.

"You are the girl I saw in the Wood! Who are you?"

The girl's eyes were wide with fear and she took a step back. She held her hands awkwardly in front of her in a defensive manner. "I um…," she began to say. Elrain cut her off, pointing a finger in her face.

"You… You're not the Venë Faeur are you?"

The girl's eyes grew even wider and she took another step back.

"You are!" Elrain declared and then in a softer tone she muttered through her teeth, "By the Valar, I thought this would be an easy mission."

The young girl was still backing away and looked like she might try to leave. "Oh no you don't," the elf said as she grabbed the girl's arm. "We need to talk. Come with me."

The girl didn't protest and followed Elrain to the guest house. Elrain came to her assigned room and shoved the girl through the door. As soon as they both were inside, she shut the door, turned the lock, and swung around to face the speechless human.

"Look," she said taking a deep breath. "I realize that this may all be very new to you. That is apparent, believe me. I just need to find out exactly what your task is here. You see, I have been sent to..." The girl still seemed to be in a shocked state, but her expression was now one of awe and not of fear. Elrain paused noticing her and then asked, "What are you staring at?"

"You didn't have pointed ears when I saw you before and you were a lot taller too," the girl observed.

Elrain straightened. This girl definitely knew nothing about Realm Jumpers if she found that surprising. "It's because I'm an elf in this world," she said. "Where you also a human in your own realm or something else?"

"I was human," the girl said. "So who exactly are you?"

"My name in this world is Elrain. I am a Realm Jumper and I have been sent here…" She paused, slightly annoyed at what she was about to validate with the following statement. "To help a person called the Venë Faeur, whom I suppose is you?"

"Yep. That's me," the girl said her expression brightening. Elrain sensed a childish tone in her voice. For someone who was supposed to defeat a great evil, she didn't seem to take her position very seriously.

"So," Elrain continued, "What is your mission?"

"Mission?"

"Yes, the task you were given before you came here. I know you didn't get that ring from just anyone. And I know you didn't kill anyone to get it." She pointed to the Realm Jumper ring hanging from the girl's neck.

"Oh yeah," the girl said absent mindedly. "Something about a fallen Maia named Morlyg who has gotten her hands on the _Lord of the Rings_ book. I'm supposed to stop her from messing things up. Also, I'm supposed to meet a companion along the way. Is that you?"

Elrain was still trying to process her words. "I'm not sure," she said slowly, "But what is a 'Lord of the Rings' book?"

"Oh, perhaps I shouldn't tell you too much about that," the girl said quickly. There was another awkward pause. The girl's expression now was one of excitement. She grinned and stuck out her hand to Elrain. "I'm terrible at introductions," she said, "but you can call me Claeo. I'm not supposed to tell a lot of people that I'm the Venë Faeur person. But it's exciting to meet another Realm Jumper!"

Elrain eyed her for a moment. This girl was an enigma. She had just been transported to another world for most likely the first time in her life, given a task that anyone else might think meant certain death or worse, and she was standing before her grinning like she was about to go on a pleasure cruise. What on earth was she thinking?

* * *

"Best. Dream. Ever." Claire thought as she introduced herself with her new name.

This Elrain person was another Realm Jumper apparently. And not only that, but seeing her up close had confirmed to Claire that this was beyond the shadow of a doubt a dream. Standing before her was the elf woman she had drawn in her church notes just the day before. Yet another influence from real life bleeding through into her subconscious. She couldn't help grinning as she continued to play along.

"Likewise," Elrain said slowly as she shook Claire's hand. The elf looked troubled. Claire supposed she had imprinted a serious disposition onto her when she had drawn her with such a serious expression. Was Elrain a creation of hers? If this was a lucid dream, could she control the people she made up too? The possibilities seemed endless.

There was another awkward pause between them. Soon Elrain closed her eyes and after another deep breath said, "Let's start over. I saw you in the Wood because you are a Realm Jumper like myself." Claire nodded and Elrain continued. "I have been sent to Middle-earth to give aid to the mission of the Venë Faeur which is you. And your mission is to do what exactly?"

"To stop a fallen shape-shifting Maia named Morlyg," Claire said succinctly. "I am to leave Rivendell one month before the Fellowship leaves." She paused thinking for a moment and then said, "That would be on the 25th of November, about 2 months from now. Then I am supposed to go to Lothlorien and talk to Galadriel. She will tell me what I need to do and after that Morlyg will strike first."

"What exactly is this Morlyg trying to do?" the elf asked.

"Um, well...I think she is after the Ring," Claire said. She felt like dropping the detail about the _Lord of the Rings_ , a book that held a detailed account of the next few months, would confuse Elrain too much so she did her best to leave it out. "Maybe Galadriel will know," she added.

Elrain had a thoughtful look on her face. She had lightened up a bit, but Claire couldn't understand what had been so stressing to her in the first place.

"I suppose she might," the elder Realm Jumper said at last. "Perhaps she can give direction to both of us. But I must ask...what Ring are you referring too?"

Claire swallowed. She kept forgetting that Elrain might not know anything about the One Ring, Frodo, or the Dark Lord. Heck, she might not even know exactly who Galadriel was. It seemed practical to find out.

"How much do you know about this world?" Claire responded. "I have a vast amount of knowledge concerning its peoples and the future, so an idea of your knowledge would help me explain it to you better."

Elrain raised her eyebrows as if to say _Really? Is this girl seriously that much of a know-it-all?_

"Well," the elf began, "I _have_ been to this realm many times and visited nearly every corner of Middle-earth. I know Elvish and all its variations including Sindarin and Quenya, not to mention Andunaic, Dwarvish, Rohirric, Orcish, and the Black speech. I know that Galadriel is a person to be reckoned with. I met her nearly 3000 years ago when this age began. Yes... I am much older than I appear. I know that the Dark Lord Sauron lost the Ring of Power around that same time and I know that it may have possibly been found. I also know that if you are planning to defeat a fallen Maia then you should know that a cocky attitude is the last thing you need to have."

She paused taking a step closer to a now thoroughly deflated Claire. "You need me on this mission. You may have knowledge of the future, but I now see that you definitely need to take things a bit more seriously. So… _Claeo_...and yes, I know that isn't your real name. I've been a Realm Jumper for long enough to know when someone gives a fake name. To be honest, that was a wise decision on you part, so well done on that. However, if you are going to pull this off, you are going to need me. I can teach you almost anything you need to know. In fact I can teach you all there is to know about Realm Jumpers seeing that you are one yourself. It will be my honor," she paused and gave a curt elvish salute of sorts, her right hand placed over her heart and then extended outward. "To provide one of such _vast_ knowledge with any assistance I can give."

Elrain smiled and extended her hand to Claire this time. Claire was mentally kicking herself for being so cocky. Even in a dream it never ended well and always made her look like a fool. She shook the elf's hand and said, "Thank you. I'm sorry if I came across as a bit condescending. I am out of my element here."

"Oh I'm sure you'll manage somehow," the elf said still smiling. "In the meantime, I believe there is a party for one of the guests staying here that will be starting soon."

"Ah yes! Bilbo's birthday party," Claire said excitedly. Elrain looked at her with a confused expression, head tilted to the side.

"Who?"

Claire gave a sarcastic gasp. "Oh you don't know Bilbo Baggins? Former Ringbearer and major player in the Battle of the Five Armies?" Claire shouldered past Elrain and opened the door. She stepped out into the hallway, looked back at the elf slyly and said, "I'll introduce you. He's a interesting person, prone to long drawn out speeches, but I'm sure you'll manage somehow."

Elrain rolled her eyes and followed the young girl down the hallway.


	9. The Wizard Arrives

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3018. October.**

 **6** The camp under Weathertop attacked at night. Frodo wounded.

 **9** Glorfindel leaves Rivendell.

 **11** He drives the Riders off the Bridge of Mitheithel.

 **13** Frodo crosses the Bridge.

 **18** Glorfindel finds Frodo at dusk. Gandalf reaches Rivendell.

 **_ . _**

 **The Wizard Arrives**

Claire awoke the next morning expecting to be in her own bed from her own world. She had never had a dream where she had fallen asleep and woken up _in_ the dream, but when she opened her eyes, she found that she was still in Rivendell. For a fleeting moment she felt uneasy. She had watched far too many episodes of the Twilight Zone to not consider that perhaps she had in fact been sucked into another dimension. Yet as with most mornings, her head cleared as she got ready for the day and her fears subsided. She kept reminding herself about how Elrain had come from her church notes and how Yavanna had been singing Greensleeves. This was most definitely a dream.

And boy was it long. One morning soon turned into another day, and a day into a week. Before she knew it, October was halfway over. Her days in Rivendell were spent talking with Elrain, going for walks in the garden, reading some elvish poetry, sharing stories with Bilbo, and enjoying the great food.

Some nights the elves would gather in a clearing in the eastern garden and sing under the stars. The stars in Middle-earth were far brighter than those in Claire's world, though the constellations were very similar. Of all the experiences that Claire had in Middle-earth, those nights in Rivendell where the most beautiful. The music of the elves stirred the heart like nothing else. At times she would find herself crying and didn't know why.

Elrain asked her to teach them some songs of her own. Claire wasn't exactly sure of the kind of music that would suit them at first, but she at last settled on the hymn "Holy Holy Holy" which the elves seemed to enjoy. Claire had always enjoyed singing, but she was well aware that she was no professional. Yet under those stars, no voice was off key. When the elves joined her song, the rising and falling of the chorus seemed to make the stars glow even brighter.

During this time in Rivendell, Elrain showed Claire the paper in the library that contained the prophesy about her. Claire also didn't understand what it meant, but she wrote the poem translation down on a piece of paper and put it in her bag for safe keeping in the future. She wondered if it might be a clue to some event down the road. She thought that if this was indeed some kind of elaborate tale conjured by her subconscious, she could expect a few cannons on the wall.

Considering the matter of the prophecy, Claire brought up Elrain's promise to teach her about being a Realm Jumper. The elf reiterated her promise but said that such matters were better left for when they were on the road to Lothlorien. "Such information," Elrain said, "could be very dangerous if overheard by others."

At last the day came when there was quite a bit of commotion in the main courtyard. Elrain and Claire had been having tea with Bilbo in the Hall of Fire when elves began hurrying out of the house and toward the front gate. They all followed them outside to see what was going on.

As Claire hurried alongside Elrain and Bilbo, she considered what it might be. It was October 18th and too early to be Frodo. When the crowd came into view, all became clear and Claire was almost afraid to approach further.

There, in the center of the crowd, was Gandalf the Grey. Not quite Ian McKellen, but a pretty close facsimile. She wondered why her subconscious didn't create an Ian McKellen-ish Gandalf, but she shoved the thought aside. Standing in front of her was one of the most famous wizards in fantasy and that was rewarding enough. The prospect of possibly meeting him filled her with excitement. Gandalf was one of her favorite characters, so it made sense that he should pop up in this story.

As Claire processed all of this in her head, she was unaware that she had the most awestruck look on her face. Elrain was confused by her behaviour; you would have thought the young girl had seen a long lost relative.

Gandalf had just finished greeting Elrond and several elves when he caught sight of Claire. Elrond saw this and came over with him.

"This is Miss Claeo," Elrond said introducing her to the wizard. Then in a lower voice he added, "She claims to be the Venë Faeur."

"A pleasure," Gandalf said shaking Claire's hand warmly. His bushy eyebrows were raised in approval. "A pleasure to be sure."

"And this is Elrain," Elrond said.

"Ah yes Elrain!" the wizard said smiling. "Good to see you again."

Elrond left their company and walked off to attend to other matters. Elrain replied, "A pleasure to see you as well Mithrandir." The elf shot a sly side eyed glance at Claire and the young girl returned with a face to match. They had made it a game to see which one of them knew more about Middle-earth. Elrain had one up on Claire as she shook the wizard's hand. "Where have you come from in such haste," she asked.

Gandalf's face became more serious. He was silent for a moment until he said at last, "These are strange times Elrain, but you will hear my tale in time." He turned to Claire and said, "So you are the Venë Faeur?"

"Yes indeed," Claire said proudly.

"Hmmm," the wizard mused eyeing her. "Well you are nothing like any of us expected. Yet as I said, these are strange times."

Claire's proud look fell. Yet even as she began to doubt her own importance, a thought came to her.

 _You need to tell him about Frodo's wound._

"Are you alright my dear," Gandalf asked. Claire had been so shocked by her own thought, that she had stood stiff with her mouth hanging open for several seconds. It had been long enough for both Elrain and Gandalf to notice.

Claire rubbed her forehead. Why on earth would she even consider….

 _Tell him everything you know about Frodo's wound._

Again...where was this coming from? If this were _Star Trek_ , such information would be breaking the Temporal Prime Directive. Did she dare give such detailed information about the future?

 _Tell him._

Elrain had become concerned at this point. "Claeo, do you need to lie down?"

"Uh no. No. Sorry. I just…" She felt a sudden wave of confidence that it was ok to do what she was contemplating. She took a deep breath, praying that space and time wouldn't be ripped apart.

"Gandalf, there is something I need to tell you." The wizard looked intently at her with searching eyes.

"Frodo is being pursued by the Nine. He will reach the ford in two days time. He has been injured by a Morgul blade."

The blood drained from Gandalf's face as she spoke and he stared at her with confusion and concern.

"You must tell Lord Elrond," she continued, "to prepare to remove a shard of that blade from the halfling's shoulder."

"We should send Frodo help," the wizard said loudly and turned to signal to a nearby attendant.

Claire interrupted him. "He already has help. Glorfindel is with them." She paused thinking and then said, "Send elves to monitor the Ford of Bruinen. After he crosses, they can help him."

Both Elrain and Gandalf stood dumbstruck staring at Claire. The young human girl's pride had fallen away, yet her face was sincere. Elrain noticed the apprehension in her eyes. Finally Gandalf spoke.

"Thank you," he said. "I believe you."

And with that he ran off to find Elrond.

"Well," Elrain said after the two of them had stood in silence for a solid minute. "That was...I don't even know what that was."

"I had to tell him about the future," Claire said feeling the need to defend herself. "I felt like that was what I needed to do."

"Did Eru tell you?"

"Did who?"

"Eru. You know Him don't you?"

Claire looked at Elrain inquisitively. "You mean _God_?" The last word came out in a sarcastic tone.

"Of course I mean _God_ ," Elrain said mimicking Claire. "Aren't you used to hearing Him speak? I thought you said the people in your world knew Him."

"They do," Claire retorted. "But He doesn't speak audibly. And besides, I didn't hear a voice. It was just a thought. Just like any other thought."

"Mmmm I don't think so," the elf said smiling. "Random thoughts can't be ignored."

"Well, I know my own mind don't I," Claire snapped. Elrain chuckled and put a hand on Claire's shoulder.

"Claeo, you know a lot about the future, but there is still so much for you to learn. But don't worry…" she trailed off as they both saw Elrond stride by. He was in a hurry, but shot Claire a knowing glance as he passed.

"We'll make a Realm Jumper out of you yet," Elrain said and the two of them walked back to the Hall of Fire.


	10. The Chess Game

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3018. October.**

 **20** Escape across the Ford of Bruinen.

 **24** Frodo recovers and wakes. Boromir arrives in Rivendell at night.

 **25** Council of Elrond.

 **_ . _**

 **The Chess Game**

Two days later Elrain found Claire standing at one of the overlooks on the west end of the house. From there one could see where the mountain path that led from the Ford of Bruinen, the river that ran across the entry to Rivendell, came up over a hill and down toward the main gate. Claire's gaze was keenly fixed so as not to miss a single twitch of the leaves in the afternoon breeze.

"So today is the day?" Elrain said joining Claire as she leaned on the rail. "I suppose your words to Lord Elrond will be put to the test."

"They will prove true," Claire said thoughtfully. "Just wait. Any moment now they will come riding up that path. An elf, a ranger of the north, and four hobbits. One of which is gravely injured. Oh and a white horse with bells on its bridle."

"That's cheating," Elrain retorted. "We saw Glorfindel leave over a week ago and you just described his horse."

Claire smiled. "True. But what was the horse's name?"

Elrain looked at her annoyed. Their game of "who-knows-more" was still going strong and they had been tied for the past week. Elrain had to concede this one.

"I don't know, but just because you know it doesn't mean you got it from your 'extensive knowledge,'" she rebutted. "You could have found out the horse's name before he left."

Claire shrugged. "True. But that would have been a lot of trouble for such a small detail."

They stared in silence at the pathway for a few more minutes. Finally Elrain said, "So….What is the horse's name?"

"Asfaloth," Claire said, letting the elvish word roll smoothly from her lips.

"Fascinating," the elf muttered. She turned and began to walk back inside. "Well enjoy your path watching."

Claire didn't respond. Curious, Elrain turned back to look and saw that now something _was_ coming up the path. She strode back to the rail and saw to her astonishment a white horse, Glorfindel's horse, come up the path led by its owner. Behind him were several elves, those who had been sent to keep a watch on the Ford. They, along with Glorfindel, were leading the group into the valley. Behind them strode a tall man carrying a small figure in his arms. And behind him were three other persons much like the one being carried. Their faces were bowed and everyone walked swiftly as if time were of the utmost.

"Frodo," Claire whispered. Elrain looked over at her, the elf's eyes still wide. Claire glanced up at her. "Believe me now?"

* * *

Claire tried to stay out of the way in the commotion that ensued as Frodo was brought into Rivendell. Thanks to her heads up, they were more than ready to remove the shard of the Morgul blade from his shoulder and soon he was recovering in his room. Just as Claire had said, he woke four days later much to the joy of the company of hobbits and Bilbo.

That afternoon of the 24th of October, Elrond found Claire as she and Elrain had tea in a garden outside the guest house.

"My lady," he said giving her an elvish salute. "Mr. Frodo Baggins is awake as you predicted. You must forgive me for my initial suspicion of your identity, but that is now very clear to me. I am honored that you are here. You may stay in Rivendell as long as you have need."

Claire rose from her chair and smiled. "There is no need for apology Lord. I would have been suspicious too if I had been in your shoes."

The elf smiled and bowed curtly to the both of them before taking his leave.

"Well," Elrain said grinning. "I suppose it's official then?"

"It would seem so," Claire said returning to her seat.

Elrain set her cup down and leaned across the table. "I'm also sorry I doubted you. I don't know where you get these premonitions, but you have proven yourself to be very astute. I'm sorry for what I said that first day we met. You know...about you not taking things seriously."

"That's alright," Claire said. She always felt awkward when people apologized to her. And especially now when she knew that Elrain had been completely right about her at the beginning. Claire had been very cocky at the start, but a month of living in Rivendell had helped her to get her bearings. She still knew that this was a dream, but something told her that it was important that she should take this seriously. Perhaps she could at least get some kind of moral object lesson from all of this.

The next day the council met and the fate of the Ring of Power was decided. The next month that passed was a hard one for Claire. She was excited to finally leave Rivendell and see more of Middle-earth, but a part of her wished she could stay there forever. "It's too bad I can't retire here when I'm old like Bilbo," she thought many times. The prospect of possibly never seeing the fair valley again made her sad.

On the final day before Elrain and Claire left Rivendell, Claire took one last long walk around the place. Passing near a common area on the east side of the house, she spotted Bilbo sitting at a table with someone. The other person had his back to her as she approached. It was obviously one of the other hobbits, but it wasn't clear which one.

Bilbo looked up as she approached. "Ah! Miss Claeo," he said smiling. "Have you met Mr. Took yet?"

The other hobbit turned in his chair to reveal a young face with green eyes framed by reddish-brown curly hair. He looked to be in his late teens (or in hobbit years "tweens"), though this face was quaint and round like most hobbits. Claire was in awe that she was actually meeting him. In truth Peregrin Took was almost as famous in her mind as Gandalf. Here sitting before her was the youngest of the hobbits, her favorite character from _The Lord of the Rings._ She thought back to the picture she had drawn in her Sunday notes. That seemed so long ago, but now looking at him she could see the resemblance.

"Peregrin, this is Miss Claeo. She is a friend of mine," continued Bilbo.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss Claeo," Peregrin said as he shook her hand.

"Oh...likewise," Claire said. She was trying not to flip out over meeting her favorite character. Attempting to say something coherent, she looked down at the table they were sitting at and said, "I see you're playing chess."

"Yes," Peregrin laughed. "I'm afraid Mr. Bilbo has me beat."

Bilbo slid out of his chair. The chairs that he and Peregrin sat at were higher than the other standard chairs. Claire assumed that the elves had gotten them especially for the hobbits to allow them to sit at a normal table. Next to Bilbo's chair was a short stool which he used to get down easier. He had seemed to grow older since Claire had seen him on her first day in Rivendell almost two months ago.

The old hobbit reached for his cane which was leaning against a nearby pillar. "Well, I shall have to end our game early Mr. Took," he said. "But perhaps Miss Claeo would care to play?"

"Oh I'm afraid I'm not very good at chess," Claire chuckled nervously. Yet the kind gaze of the old hobbit made her think that it would be rude not to. "But I'll give it a go," she said. She slid Bilbo's chair to the side, got a normal sized chair, and sat down across from Pippin. Bilbo hobbled off to the Hall of Fire leaving the the young hobbit and the human girl to their chess game.

"So where are you from Miss Claeo," Peregrin asked as he began to rearrange the pieces.

"I'm from the...the south," she said reaching for an adequate answer. "And please, call me Claeo."

"Well, then you can call me Pippin," he said. "I sometimes think living with the elves has made Mr. Bilbo far too formal. Though I dare say, living here for as long as he has, I'm surprised he hasn't started singing more. They sing so much here don't they?"

Claire laughed. "Indeed they do. They are all so serious most of the time, but then they sing so much. Elves can be quite odd."

The young hobbit laughed in agreement. Claire looked at the cheerful fellow thoughtfully as he rearranged the chess pieces. She wondered if he actually understood what the days to come held for him. She was reminded of Elrain's comments when they had first met. Was Claire now having Elrain's experience? Seeing someone so matter of fact about the grim and dangerous future? She had always related to Pippin as a character. Perhaps they were more similar than she thought.

The chess game began and Claire soon showed off her amazing ability to lose in the most pathetic of ways. Back in her own world, her younger cousin Fred had taught her how to play, but she had never been able to see many moves ahead. She was also hasty when it came to strategy, a key flaw in her personality. As they played, the two of them talked about Rivendell and all the things they found funny and odd about Elves. She also asked Pippin about the Shire and what life was like there. Of all the places in Middle-earth Claire wanted to see, it was the Shire. She wondered if this dream would go on long enough for her to visit there.

An hour later Pippin said, "Checkmate."

Claire sat back in her chair. "You play very well Mr. Took."

"Thank you, Miss Claeo," the hobbit said smiling. "It was good to meet you. I hope that you have safe travels when you leave Rivendell."

"You too," she said thoughtfully.

The two of them got up from their chairs and parted. Claire continued her walk around Rivendell, but she couldn't help wondering if that was to be her only interaction with Peregrin Took. She conceded in her mind that this was likely. Elrain had lectured her on the importance of Realm Jumpers staying in the background of great events. Interactions with the Fellowship would have to be kept to a minimum.

Thus Claire finished her walk and the sun set on her last day in Rivendell.


	11. The Trek through Hollyn

**The Trek through Hollyn**

It was early in the morning when Elrain and Claire prepared to leave the valley. The faint light of the rising sun cast golden hues on the trees and the morning mist was cool and fresh. Elrain and Claire did final checks on supplies as they stood in the courtyard near the gate. She turned to Elrain who now sported her long black coat again over which she wore a long grey hooded cloak. The elf also had a long curved sword hanging at her side, a weapon the young girl hadn't seen before. Claire also wore a cloak over her Realm Jumper clothes as well as a scarf lent to her by the elves. Her sword hung loosely from her belt. They both bore packs on their backs filled with food and fresh water for the road.

As Claire adjusted her pack, she looked up at the last homely house a final time. Rivendell was quiet save a few elves that went here and there. I was too early for the hobbits or for any of the other guests that were staying there to be up and about. She smiled and said, "Farewell Rivendell. Hope to see you again someday." And with that final word, she turned and followed Elrain out of the gate.

* * *

As the elf and the young human girl made their way out into the hilly wooded country between Rivendell and the Misty Mountains, Claeo became practically giddy. As they came out into a wide open space she ran ahead of Elrain, her eyes wide at every vista and view before them. At one point they crossed a grassy field where a clear view of the snow capped mountain range could be seen. The elf shook her head as Claeo began twirling around and singing something about "the hills being alive with the sound of music." She also broke out into a song about how she "wanted adventure in the great wide somewhere." Claeo also repeated over and over, "Just look at those mountains Elrain! They're beautiful!" Apparently where she was from in her world, mountains were few and being in such close proximity kept her in a constant state of excited wonder.

Needless to say, their first day out of Rivendell was a pleasant one. The autumn chill was full on and the sky was clear and blue.

On the first night of their trip they made camp in the wood not too far from the road. As the two sat around the crackling fire Elrain rummaged in her pack for something. Tonight she would begin teaching Claeo the ins and outs of Realm Jumping and the young girl's patient waiting in Rivendell would at last be satisfied.

"So," the elf began. "Rule number one…" She pulled out a small pouch and poured the contents into the palm of her hand. In her palm sat small metal pieces that had an electronic component to them.

"Never let tech from one world fall into the hands of another." She casually cast the metal fragments into the campfire. "That was what was left of a data pad I was given on my last mission. I smashed it to pieces the moment I arrived here. Even bringing it here was a risk, but I had no choice. I couldn't leave it in the Wood now could I?"

As they watched the small metal scraps begin to disintegrate in the flames, Elrain continued.

"Rule number two: Don't ever tell anyone that you are a Realm Jumper unless absolutely necessary. And Rule number three: Never tell anyone which world you come from."

"Why is that," Claeo asked resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

"Because if someone knows which world you are originally from, they can find you and kill you. You don't make many friends in this line of work, but you certainly make a lot of enemies."

"Couldn't your enemies just track you down and kill you regardless of what world you are in?"

Elrain paused and rubbed her shoulder absentmindedly. "Well...that's another complicated matter. You see the Realm Jumpers are sometimes afforded a trick. They can't be killed permanently in a world they are not from. I'm not exactly sure how it works, but I once knew another Jumper who died in a world I had a mission in. They were stabbed straight through the heart which was traumatizing for them and those who witnessed it to say the least. But before anyone could do anything, their body vanished."

"Vanished?"

"Yes," the elf nodded. "Right into thin air. And then they showed up about two months later perfectly fine. But they had a different name. I think that's a given in those situations; you have to change your name. But it is true that if you are killed in your own world, then it is no different from how death normally works. It is very permanent."

Elrain paused for a moment to let the young girl process the information before moving on.

"Now to the matter of your sword," Elrain said looking at the sheathed blade sitting next to Claeo. "You have yet to use it. Are you skilled in swordplay?"

"Well," the young girl said leaning back. "I used to spar with my friends back home, but we used wooden sticks."

"Were you good at disarming them?"

"I suppose I wasn't the best," she said after a long pause. Looking over at Elrain she saw the annoyed doubt in the elf's eyes.

"I see," Elrain said at last. "Well I shall teach you the finer points of sword play. However, that will not be your primary weapon when in a fight. You are a Realm Jumper which means you should have some sort of special ability."

Claeo sat up straighter. "Like what?"

Elrain shrugged. "It varies from person to person. I've known Jumpers who have had enhanced eyesight, could walk through walls, fly...it really depends on what Eru deems you will need."

"So like superpowers? You mean I have some sort of superpower?" Claeo grinned excitedly.

"I suppose you might call it that. But don't get too excited. You really won't have any idea of what you can do until the time is right. Yet even then you must understand one thing and one thing only." Elrain leaned forward to looked Claeo squarely in the face. She pointed her finger at the girl and said, "All the power you have comes from Eru. It cannot be used for evil. If you try to use it for evil, it will leave you. You will understand as time goes on."

"What is your superpower?"

"At moments of crisis, I have been known to be exceptionally strong," she said casually. "I can also avoid being seen if I wish. And I am quite skilled with a bow."

"Cool," Claeo said.

"Well that is enough teaching for one night. Let's go over our plans for the journey." Elrain pulled out the map of middle earth that she had folded up in her pack. "We are about eight miles out from Rivendell." She pointed to their location on the map. "A slow day to say the least. We should be able to reach the Redhorn Gate and be in Lothlorien at least within a month."

"I'm not so sure about that," Claeo said in a correcting tone.

Elrain looked up from the map. "What makes you say that?"

"Caradhras is a pretty treacherous mountain isn't it? Won't the snow be too much for us?"

"Claeo, I told you," the elf tutted. "Snow doesn't come down from the mountains this time of year. I told you this when we talked about it back in Rivendell."

"Yes, and I told _you_ that I know stuff and that there _will_ be snow that far south. The Fellowship is going to be forced into passing through Moria because of it. But we won't be able to go that way and that is why we are leaving early; so that we can have time enough to go through the Gap of Rohan, up around Fangorn Forest and then to Lothlorien just in time to meet the Fellowship." The girl drew her finger along the path on the map as she spoke. Elrain pulled a face.

"We would be travelling almost twice the distance needed! Claeo, the Redhorn Gate is our best choice."

"Elrain, trust me. There _will_ be too much snow on that mountain."

"But how do you know that?

"I just do!"

Elrain shook her head in frustration. She was well aware that the Venë Faeur was supposed to know the future, but she was beginning to wonder about the nature of Claeo's future-telling abilities. She knew very specific details about people and events. At times she knew exactly what people would say down to the punctuation. This was something that Elrain had never before observed in those with the gift of foresight. At first it had been amusing, but as time went on, Elrain began to suspect that something wasn't quite right and now the girl's attitude began to rub her the wrong way. Claeo's insistence on too much snow at Caradhras annoyed her most of all. Elrain was well aware that it graded on her pride, but that didn't make it any easier.

The other thing that troubled Elrain was that Claeo never had any explanation for how she knew what she knew. When they had met Gandalf, the young girl had insisted that the voice in her head wasn't Eru and she didn't hear His voice. But if that was the case, how in all the worlds did she get such detailed information? The contradiction only added more fuel to Elrain's annoyance.

Claeo tilted her head and looked back in the fire. Elrain began to say something in defence, but then added softly, "Well I guess we will just have to see won't we?" She folded the map and placed it back in her pack.

Claeo looked back and her and smiled. "Yep. We will indeed."

* * *

The two travelers reached Hollyn in a week and soon began skirting the mountain range. As Claire had predicted, the closer they drew to the Redhorn gate, the colder it became. However the snow was not as bad as Claire had predicted as of yet so they pressed on. Each night the air became colder and the elf taught Claire more and more about being a Realm Jumper.

She also began to teach her to sword fight. On the evening of their last camp before attempting the mountain pass, Claire found herself becoming more and more discouraged. She had the positions for blocking and striking memorized; a good memory was one of her most impressive attributes. However when it came to using a blade, or in this case a heavy stick that Elrain had pulled from the forest, she found that she wasn't very good.

The reality was that Claire had not told Elrain the whole truth when it came to her sparring skills. Back in her own world, she and the other homeschool kids had come up with their own set of rules for sparring. If you got hit on an arm or a leg, you were "skywalkered" and could no longer use that limb even if it meant hopping on one foot or fighting on your knees. Claire had been "skywalkered" more times than she could remember and while she could talk smack with the best of them, she was bad at physically defending herself. In short she was terrible at it and she was feeling it now.

"Keep your elbows close to your body," Elrain said twirling her stick. "Don't let your sword move too far out from you. You leave yourself open to attack."

"I know," Claire said breathing hard and gripping her stick tighter. They had been going at it for about 30 minutes and she was tired and frustrated.

"Well you obviously don't. If you did, you would do it."

Claire gave a frustrated growl and lunged at Elrain with her stick. The Elf stepped to the side, caught Claire's stick with her own weapon, and swung a foot under Claire's ankle. The young girl went down on her back with a thud. Elrain looked down at her woefully.

"You just need more practice. We've only been doing this a few days and no one becomes a skilled fighter overnight."

"I know," Claire moaned as she lay on the forest floor with her hands over her face.

Elrain gave her a hand up and the young girl began to pick the leaves out of her hair.

"Did you see that cloud this afternoon," Claire asked.

"I don't think so. What cloud?"

"Well the sky was clear but there was this one cloud. Kind of dark and far away. You don't think it was the Crebain from Dunland to you? I hope not." Claire gave Elrain a worried look as she flicked the last twig out of her short brown hair.

"Crebain? You mean crows? Even if it was, what difference would it make?"

"They're spies of Saruman."

Before Elrain could retort, the screeching _caw caw_ of a crow sounded overhead. It was dusk and the dark silhouette of two birds whizzed by heading south.

"See! See," Claire said hoarsely. "I told you they were crows. They've probably seen us and are going to tell Saurman to fire up the snow on Caradhras."

"Will you please stop with the snow on Caradhras!" Elrain snapped.

Claire fell silent, but that didn't help the mood any. Claire struggled to go to sleep that night. She was certain that the mountain pass wasn't an option and she wondered how long of a cold struggle it would take to get that into Elrain's head. Tomorrow was going to be a rough day and she wished that the elf would just trust her and save them the time of even trying. As Claire finally drifted off to sleep she thought, "Perhaps she will take me at my word after tomorrow."

* * *

As the sun rose the next day, Claire's fears had begun to come true. They woke to an inch of snow covering everything. After breaking camp and beginning the approach on the pass, the snow became worse. By noon the snow was so intense that they couldn't see but a few feet in front of them. The elf struggled through the knee deep snow as Claire dragged behind trying to step where she had stepped. It was a wonder to Claire that the elf had so much trouble. The young girl seemed to recall that Legolas, also and elf, had been able to walk on top of the snow. She wondered if Elrain only looked like an elf, but was not in fact wholly _elf_. Or perhaps it had something to do with being born an elf in Middle-earth that made the difference.

The two of them trudged for a hour and traveled about 30 yards. The wind was overwhelming now and Claire wrapped her scarf around all but her eyes. They stung with the cold wind and the young girl tried to keep her head bowed. She focused on her feet thinking that probably Elrain would walk off any cliffs in their path before she did.

Suddenly she bumped into her. Elrain had stopped in the snow panting and pulling her cloak tighter around her. Claire looked up at her and the elf's annoyed visage met hers.

"I know what you are going to say. Don't," the elf yelled over the howling winds. "I don't know how you knew, but you were right. We can't possibly go over Caradhras. We will have to go another way."

"We should be on our guard," Claire yelled through her scarf. "There will be wolves further south."

"Wolves! How do you….?" Elrain stopped and put her palm over her face.. "Alright fine," she moaned and began to trudge back the way they came. Claire followed, content to be silent and let Elrain stew over her own thoughts. At least they would be able to get out of the snow. "That alone is worth walking further," Claire thought to herself, "I'm so glad we don't get snow in the south."


	12. The Encounter at Isengard

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. January.**

 **13** Attack by wolves in the early hours. The Company reaches West-gate of Moria at nightfall. Gollum begins to trail the Ringbearer.

 **_ . _**

 **The Encounter at Isengard**

Nearly a month later the Gap of Rohan was in sight. The long unending mountain range broke for a few miles allowing a passage into the land of Rohan, thus the name. However this also forced them to pass near to Isengard, a prospect that gave Claire pause. She had begun to be less assertive when the wolves she had predicted didn't show up, though she was actually very relieved about that. Claire remembered that the Fellowship specifically didn't want to go past Isengard because Saruman was after the One Ring. However, Claire supposed that two stealthy Realm Jumpers would be able to sneak past the city better than a fellowship of nine.

Claire was also beginning to get better with her sword training. Each evening she got faster and more confident. Elrain had become a bit more patient and tried to trip her less. The first night in sight of the Gap of Rohan, Elrain had let her try out her sword. Claire's sword was of a classic design, straight and with a hilt that spread across the blade curving up towards the point. Elrain's blade was curved like many of the elvish swords Claire had seen. The fighting styles for both were very different and Elrain had been patient to show her how to handle the weapon.

"You're main goal is to slice your enemy and not yourself. Don't do any fancy twirling unless you want to lose a limb," Elrain had said. The two sparred for a few minutes, but the heavy sword soon had Claire winded. The young girl was also extremely afraid of getting cut which didn't help. Getting hit with a stick if you made a mistake was no big deal, but a sword could cut your arm off and there was no recovery from that.

On their second night in sight of the gap, they made camp a mile out from Isengard. At the warning of Claire, Elrain agreed that they not approach it. They could hear strange sounds in the night as they tried to sleep and there was an odd smell in the air. A stuffy fire smell that seemed to cling to everything.

The next day they kept to the thicker part of the woods near Isengard, avoiding all roads and common paths. There was definitely something sinister going on in that place, but Saruman did a good job of not letting it be too obvious. They spotted the occasional guard here and there, but no orcs or Uruk-hai. Claire had tried to explain what the Uruk-hai were to Elrain, but the elf scoffed at the idea of a human/orc hybrid. "No wizard would dare do such a thing," she said.

At last night began to fall and the sun set into a red hazy sky. They were on the other side of Isengard now, with the open countryside just on the far side of the thick woods they had been hiding in. Thankfully it wasn't as cold as it had been farther north and that fact alone was encouraging.

As Elrain and Claire made their way through the woods, Elrain suddenly stood still. When Claire asked what was wrong, the elf shushed her.

"Do you hear that? It sounds like voices up ahead."

Claire strained her eyes to see through the dark trees ahead, but she couldn't see anything or hear anything for that matter. The two crept as softly as they could through the trees until they did see something. The light of torches illuminated a crude structure fashioned of worn wood and scrap metal. Now Claire could hear the voices and as they drew even closer they could see the shapes of men moving back and forth around the structure. Yet it wasn't until they had crept as close as they dared that they discovered the awful truth. Those weren't men. They were orcs; huge tall orcs like nothing Elrain had ever seen. Claire was too scared to make a sound and inform her that those were Uruk-hai. Indeed Claire found that she was beginning to feel panic rise within her. Something about seeing the Uruks silhouetted against the torch light as they argued and growled orders at each other froze her blood.

"We just need to make it past this outpost," Elrain whispered. "Follow me and keep low." As they began to take a few steps forward, the elf hissed "And be quiet!"

It was hard to walk in the woods without crunching a few leaves along the way and Claire found herself wincing at every step. Yet as she walked gingerly behind Elrain, she thought she saw a soft blue light illuminating the trees in front of the elf. It was too dim to be any kind of fire. It was more like the light from a glow stick from her own world, but Claire knew that was absurd. As they went on, Claire saw that the elf's hands were empty and the best she could tell the light was somehow coming from her face.

The Uruks still went to and fro around the structure carrying things and sharpening weapons. The two travelers had crept at least 20 more feet through the thick wood and in front of them. No more than 100 feet away was more open country where they could move faster.

Claire glanced back at their trail through the wood and her heart stopped. An Uruk was standing where they had been not two minutes earlier. He was bent to the ground holding a torch so that he could examine the leaves. Claire tapped Elrain on the back and pointed. As they both looked, they saw the Uruk call over another and then another comrade to come see what he had found.

"They see our footprints," Elrain hissed. Her tone was more annoyed than afraid. "We have to move faster." The elf sped up and Claire, who had been following closely behind, picked up the pace as well. It felt like the faster they moved, the louder the Uruks became. Soon they were stirred up like a disturbed ant hill. Elrain drew her sword and began to go even faster.

Then two things happened. First a very large Uruk seemed to spring up in front of Elrain. Without missing a beat, she crossed blades with the creature. But to Claire's utter shock, the elf's blade went clean through the Uruk's sword. Elrain's swing was so powerful that her blade cut through its sword and body in one fell swoop. The Uruk dropped like a stone. The second thing that happened was the alarm that went up at the outpost. It was a droning shrill horn that made Claire's ears ache.

As soon as the Uruk had hit the ground, Elrain spun around to Claire and yelled, "Draw your sword!"

It was at this moment that the mystery of the strange light was solved, yet what Claire saw only raised more questions. Elrain's eyes were glowing. The soft blue light Claire had seen had come from the elf's eyes. Elrain's eyes were normally a deep shade of green, but now they were as bright and blue as a noonday sky; her pupils were like two white hot coals that only flickered when she blinked. For a moment Claire forgot about the terrible peril they were in and stared in wonder.

"Draw your sword!" the elf yelled a second time. Claire snapped out of her trance and fumbled for her blade. She drew it out clumsily and almost dropped it. No sooner had she done this, an Uruk came at her from her left. She screamed and ducked as he swung his blade at her head. She tried to swing her own blade, but her grip was weak with fear. Claire lost her balance in her attempt to evade the Uruk and fell on her back. The creature raised his blade to strike and the young girl screamed. She threw up her hands to protect her face, dropping her sword in the process.

A flash of blue light came from the side and the Uruk's head tumbled to the ground next to Claire. Other Uruk-hai were upon them now and Elrain stood next to Claire dispatching each as they came. Her blade flashed as she took down each one with a single powerful blow.

Claire lay on the ground cowering. If this was a dream, it had turned into a hellish nightmare. The snow had been bad, but this was the last straw. It was time to wake up.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" she repeated to herself as she lay on the forest floor. Bodies of Uruk's fell on every side. The smell of death combined with the sounds of flesh being sliced was overwhelming. Elrain dealt a final blow to one Uruk and the result spattered Claire with black blood. The elf looked down at her and from her fetal position on the ground, Claire caught Elrain's gaze. The elf's eyes burned even brighter now and the light illuminated her expression. She was not happy.

"Pick up your sword and help me!" she yelled at the young girl lying at her feet.

Claire ignored her. This was all a dream after all, right? She just had to wake up.

"Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!" she repeated hitting herself in the forehead with her hands. Panic began to rise in Claire's chest till finally she screamed, "Why can't I wake up?!"

She felt the elf grab her arm and pull her to her feet. Elrain shoved Claire's sword into her hand. The elf began to run, dragging the young girl after her. Claire was crying now and the tears in her eyes stung more than normal. Claire wondered if there was Uruk blood on her face that was dripping into her eyes. The very thought almost made her vomit, but fear kept her stomach in check.

At last they were out of the trees and out into more open country. The mountains loomed beneath the moonlight and with no torches nearby, the light was as good as day. Yet Elrain didn't stop running. Claire had always hated running and the very act soon had her winded, but fear was still motivating her so she kept up with the furious elf.

After running for what seemed like an eternity, but was more like an hour, Elrain stopped. There was no sound of pursuit and the two of them had found a small clearing to make camp. Claire collapsed to the ground panting. Elrain peered behind them for a few minutes before being satisfied that they had gotten away. After her display of power, the Uruk-hai knew better than to follow them.

Claire propped herself against a tree in a seated position as she continued to catch her breath. She was just beginning to calm down when Elrain stormed up to her. Her eyes were no longer glowing.

"What was that back there?" she demanded. "Is the Venë Faeur such a coward that she can't even stand on her own two feet in the midst of a battle?"

Claire began to cry again and said nothing.

"You need to take this more seriously. I've said that from the beginning," Elrain continued. "And I thought that perhaps in Rivendell you had accomplished that, but that just now...that was shameful! I know you aren't completely skilled with a blade, but you could at least try. And what was all of that about waking up?" She paused staring at the blubbering young girl for a moment and then added in a softer tone, "Have you gone mad, Claeo?"

"It's not real!" Claire blurrted out finally. She had given up on any kind of facade and she thought that perhaps telling Elrain everything would help somehow. "It's not real! It's all a dream!"

The elf was utterly confused. "What in all the worlds are you talking about?"

"This is a dream," Claire sobbed. "None of this is real. I made it up. I'm dreaming."

The elf paused for a moment processing what the girl had said. She glanced up at the sky for a moment and then rubbed her eyes wearily.

"You think this is all a dream?" Elrain asked, her voice now back to normal. She kneeled down to be on eye level with Claire.

"Y-yes," Claire said, her breathing coming in gasps. "I've always wanted to come Middle-earth and thought that this dream was the result. I'm not a warrior or anyone special. I'm just a kid! I don't even want to fight orcs or anything. And now I just want to go home." She pulled her pack off of her back and dug in it. Shoving her copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ in Elrain's face she moaned, "I'm no seer. All I know is in this book. I just acted like I heard it from Eru to look impressive. I was playing along. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I just want to wake up now."

The elf took the book from her and examined the cover. This particular edition was exactly like Claire's copy from her own world, a paperback with a picture of Ian McKellen as Gandalf on the front. Elrain looked at the perfect bound spine and said, "This is from an machine operated printer. Your world must be semi-technically advanced. The highly advanced worlds only have things like this as novelties."

"Don't you get it?!" Claire yelled, frustrated at how calm Elrain was in contrast to her distress. "I can't wake up! Does this mean I'm dead? Am I in a coma? What is happening to me?"

She began to slap herself, but Elrain caught her wrist and yelled, "Hey! Stop it! You need to calm down. You've been through a lot tonight and smacking yourself in the face isn't going to help anything. I'm going to build a fire because it's freezing. Then you and I are going to have a nice calm and level headed discussion." She placed the book back into Claire's hands. "Alright?"

Claire nodded pensively and Elrain began to gather sticks for the fire.


	13. The Truth

**The Truth**

"This is incredible," Elrain said as she leafed through Claire's copy of _The Lord of the Rings._

Claire sat huddled next to the fire, her cloak wrapped tightly around her. Elrain sat next to her as she studied the chapter titled "Many Meetings."

"This book is a detailed account of all that has gone on from the perspective of those four hobbits we met in Rivendell. Fascinating! And you say that you know this book cover to cover?"

Claire nodded somberly. "How else do you think I knew so much detail about things?"

"So this fallen Maia, Morlyg...she also has a copy of this book?"

Claire nodded again. It hadn't been hard to spill her guts on practically every secret she had kept from Elrain. Yet the elf's reaction had not been what Claire expected. The more she told her, the more interested the elf was.

Elrain's brown furrowed with concern. "I can see now why they sent you. This book in the hands of ill intent would be disastrous." Elrain shut the book and examined the cover again. She ran a finger over the paperback's cover and sniffed the binding. Claire gave her a confused glance. "Hmm," the elf said at last. "It's a cheap print. Not very high quality."

"Well it cost me $13," Claire said.

"Is that a lot?"

"Not really," Claire sighed shaking her head. "They make nicer versions but I was in a hurry to read it."

Elrain handed the book back to Claire who snaked a hand from beneath her cloak to accept it. "You don't have to worry," the elf said with a smirk. "I didn't read ahead. Probably best that I don't know what is going to happen."

Claire forced a grin and then returned to her moping. She stared at the fire listlessly and clutched the book to her chest like it was all she had left in the world.

Elrain poked the fire with a stick. "Back to what you were saying earlier about this all being a dream. Why do you think that?"

Claire fumbled for words. "Well...I mean...it's…" she raised the book in front of her as if she was trying to articulate it as evidence. "This book. It's made up. J.R.R. Tolkien wrote it. He was inspired by a bunch of english legends and folklore. Plus he was a linguist so he wrote a story to write his languages into. It's not real. So how could I be _in_ a story that is made up? And if it isn't made up, how could he possibly know about Middle-earth in such great detail?"

Elrain sat cross legged next to Claire, her hands held in a teepee position beneath her nose. "Perhaps he was a Realm Jumper?" she mused. "Or he had visions of this world. I should tell you that this is not the first time that things like this have happened. Often Eru grants visions of other worlds to people and they subsequently write them into stories."

The elf pointed to the book in Claire's arms. "Books can have power Claeo. Never underestimate the written word."

"But this can't be real," Claire moaned.

"Why not? Why couldn't it be real?"

"Because it just isn't," Claire said rising to her feet in frustration. She began to pace back and forth next to the campfire opposite Elrain. "If I were to go back to my world and say 'Hey guys. Guess what? I went to Middle-earth' you know what they would do to me? The would have me committed. They would say I was crazy. Other dimensions only exist in stories. I'm just a silly kid who has read too much Tolkien for my own good. I wanted to come here and so I imagined that I did. Up until the bone chilling snow and horrible slaughter-fest you had back there, it was everything I imagined it would be."

"But why can't that just be the case? Eru knew you wanted to come here, so when the need arose He chose you. Sometimes things do work out perfectly."

"Well not in _my_ life," Claire snapped. She paused, convicted of her own attitude of self pity. She sat next to Elrain again, her eyes downcast.

"In my world," the young girl said. "I don't have a lot of friends. My peers don't like me because I'm not like them. And even the few that do like me aren't as passionate as I am. I've never felt like I fully belonged in that world. But Middle-earth...Elrain, there hasn't been a moment, with the exception of Caradhras and Isengard, that I've felt out of place." She stared up into the canopy of the trees. A few stars peeked out from behind the swaying branches.

"But don't you see," Elrain said enthusiastically. "That makes perfect sense. Eru gave you this desire to prepare you for this very task. All your life has been leading to this point."

"But it can't be real. God...Eru...He doesn't do things like that. Not anymore. At least I want to believe that He does. But that doesn't seem to be the attitude of the people in my world. People talk about God and following Him and all that, but then you would never know it…." Claire trailed off frustrated. Elrain looked intently at her as if trying to figure out a math problem.

The two of them sat in silence listening to the crackle of the fire. Claire pressed her hands against her face for a moment. When she removed them she took a deep breath and said, "Ok ok. Say I'm wrong and all of this is real. Like, what am I even supposed to do? How do I defeat a demon?"

"Well we _are_ on our way to Lothlorien per Yavanna's instructions. Perhaps Galadriel will know what you need to do?"

"I suppose," Claire said doubtfully. Elrain moved closer to her and took _The Lord of the Rings_ from Claire.

Holding it in front of the girl, she said, "Eru never sends those who follow Him into any situation without preparing a way before hand. You said earlier that things were too perfect. You are right. Things _are_ too perfect and that should give you comfort. All the pieces are falling into place. All you have to do is to take one step at a time and leave the rest to Him."

Claire didn't know how to respond. She had heard many profound words from her own Mother like this and they often left her wishing that she could says something profound in return. But as was the case with her Mother, she had to concede that the woman next to her knew considerably more and was much wiser than she was.

"Thanks," Claire said weakly. Then a thought sprang into her mind. "Does this mean that other worlds I've read about are real too?"

"Perhaps," the elf said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, because if the Wood Between the Worlds is real, then places like Narnia must be real too."

Elrain stopped and sat straight up. She turned to look at Claire. Her eyes were wide and searching.

"What do you know of that world?" the elf demanded. Her sudden change of demeanor caught Clarie so off guard that it took her a few moments to form words.

"Um...well I've...read books about it. In fact the guy who wrote them knew Tolkien. I wonder if they both knew something we don't."

"But Narnia," Elrain said looking intently at Claire. "You know of its history?"

Claire nodded.

"Do you know of - of Jadis of Charn," the elf asked, eyes wide and glimmering in the fire light.

"Uh yeah. Why?"

"Do you know how she died?" Elrain's voice was low and solemn, as if the question carried weight beyond Claire's understanding.

"I do. She was killed by Aslan. I suppose He was 'Eru' in Narnia."

The Elf sat back and Claire thought she saw tears forming in her eyes.

"Elrain," Claire said softly. "Why are you asking me these questions?"

Elrain took a deep ragged breath. "I suppose since you have been so honest with me, I can return the favor." She looked up from the fire and tears began to stream down her cheeks. "Do you know what Jadis did before she left Charn?"

"Yes," Claire said softly.

"Then you know what I lost," Elrain said. "You know how I said that you should never reveal your home world to anyone? Well, I suppose it doesn't matter for me. My world died a long time ago. Jadis destroyed it."

Claire's jaw dropped open and her eyes grew wide. "Your home world...was Charn?"

"Yes," Elrain said solemnly. "That was not what we called it in that world, but that is what the Realm Jumpers called it. Often a world is classified by a capital city or one particular country or nation."

"So how did you become a Realm Jumper?" Claire's curiosity was peaked now, horrible backstory or not.

"My family was not of royal blood," Elrain began. "They were slaves, yet of all the lives that slaves led in that world, they had it pretty good. Travel between worlds had always been known to exist, but it wasn't until I was offered the chance to become a Realm Jumper that I knew it was real. I was a bit like you I suppose. I was unhappy with my life and when Eru offered me an opportunity to escape that cold place, I took it. After my first mission, I returned home and told my family about my adventure. I showed them my Realm Jumper ring and told them that I could take them away from the hard life they lived. But they didn't want to leave. They had always believed in Eru and that someone needed to stand up to the corruption in the Royal family. They felt that leaving their world would be abandoning a responsibility placed upon them."

Elrain fingered her Realm Jumper ring that hung from her neck. "They were noble people, my family. But I was bitter at their stubbornness, so I left and continued to go on missions as a Realm Jumper, traveling from world to world. All the while I was away, Jadis and her sister went to war. I don't know much about what they did, but I know that hundreds of thousands of people died in the name of their petty quarrel. There was another Realm Jumper who I knew that frequented Charn. He would bring me word of what went on there and even encouraged me to go back to see my parents. But I wouldn't listen. Then the day came when I heard that something terrible had happened in Charn. Jadis had done something unspeakable. I rushed back as fast as I could, but I was too late."

She stopped, the words catching in her throat.

"Jadis used the Deplorable Word," Claire said.

"Yes," Elrain said, her voice going to that deep tone it had hit before. "Everyone. My parents. My entire people. All gone. I had no great fondness for that vile and corrupt city, but it was all I had known. And now it was gone. I knew that Jadis would preserve herself, so I ran to the Hall of Images, intent on removing her head from her shoulders. Yet when I arrived, she was gone and part of the hall had caved in."

Claire thought about interjecting with the information she had on the events prior to Elrain's account, but she thought better of it and kept silent.

"I left that world for the last time," the elf said. "I knew that Jadis was out in some other world somewhere and I swore that I would find her and avenge my family. I inquired amongst the other Realm Jumpers I knew, but none of them had knowledge of her location. However, after years of searching, I finally found out which world she had gone to. It was a small young world that no Realm Jumper had ever entered. Indeed, sanctions had been set upon it so that no one using rings may ever enter there. It was said that there were _others_ destined to travel there. I was furious when I found this out and the name of that world was forever burned upon my mind."

"I begged Eru to give me vengeance," Elrain said staring into the fire. "He promised me that justice would come to Jadis by His hand alone, yet He comforted me with this promise: if I devoted my life to following the path set before me as a Realm Jumper, I would be a link in the long chain of events that would lead to Jadis' death. And I have done so ever since."

"I am sorry," she said looking up from the fire and back at Claire. "I did not mean to be so harsh toward you when you mentioned that world. It brought back bad memories that I had pushed away for a long time."

"It's alright," Claire said stirring the fire with her stick. "I suppose we both have our issues."

Elrain chuckled and wiped the tears from her face. "Claeo, everyone has issues. It's all a matter of who hides them better."


	14. The Long Way Round

**The Long Way Round**

The journey was much different after that night. With both of their secrets told, the two travelers quarreled less and the trip actually became more enjoyable. Making their way into the western edges of Rohan, they stopped in a small village for supplies. Then the trek northward began. Going around the Forest of Fangorn added a considerable amount of time to their trip. Claire calculated the date and thought it interesting that on the night that they had encountered the Uruk-hai was the same night that the Fellowship encountered the wolves near Caradhras.

They tried to keep their distance from the very edge of Fangorn. Even Elrain had heard the tales of the dark things that lived there. Claire told her that there were in fact Ents living there and that they would play a part in the tale. Elrain was impressed, now putting more stock in Claire's predictions, yet she still advised caution.

As they passed out of sight of Fangorn and headed further north, their journey was in its third month. Along the way Elrain had told Claire more about the Realm Jumpers and the unique abilities that Elrain had observed in her past companions.

"I once knew a man whose special ability was that he could gain the attention of anyone he wanted," Elrain said one evening around the campfire. "A strange power, but more useful than you would think. Our mission was to obtain a gemstone that was poisoning the well of a town, but the well was 'sacred' and anyone who touched it would be sentenced to death. This Realm Jumper distracted the whole town for 5 hours while I and others retrieved the gem. Poor fellow."

Claire chuckled and took a swig of water from her flask. "How did he figure out he had that ability? Did he just one day realize that everyone couldn't look away from him?"

"It's not always as simple as that," Elrain said shaking her head and smiling. "A Realm Jumper's ability is powered by Eru, but the wielder must continuously activate it. Much like _the sight_."

"The what?"

"What you called the 'eye glowy-thing'. Remember? It lets us see things the way they really are?"

"Oh yeah," Claire said nodding. Elrain had told her the day after the evening at Isengard. Apparently this ability was given to every Realm Jumper regardless of who they were and it showed them the "true nature of things." Claire wasn't entirely sure what that meant or how it worked. Elrain had explained that it was extremely useful for seeing in the dark, which was why she had used _the sight_ that night near the Urku-hai outpost.

"Another interesting thing about Jumper abilities," Elrain added, "Is that they are only given to 'official' Jumpers. Or rather, those who have used the Wood Between the worlds."

"Are there other ways to travel to other worlds," Claire inquired.

"Yes, but they are hard to find. You might call them 'Portals'. The are usually left over from when worlds are created but they are highly unstable. Many of them eventually close. Sometimes they can be created by magic, but that is very rare."

"Anyway," the elf said, going back to her previous subject, "It is said that each Realm Jumper gets their ability from exposure to the Wood and then the power of Eru activates them. Though I have heard of cases where no clear abilities manifested at all. It's hard to say and extremely unpredictable. There have also been cases where non-Jumpers, those who had not officially been called, found their way into the Wood and then later manifested abilities. This is also very rare."

"Is time travel a special ability," Claire asked.

Elrain's brow furrowed. "No. Are you asking this because of Eru's fourth gift to you that you told me about?"

Claire nodded. "The opportunity to correct the past. I thought maybe that was my special ability."

"No," the elf said. "That 'opportunity' is what we call a 'realm spell'. It is a spell that affects an entire world." Elrain paused and considered her next words carefully. "Realm spells are extremely costly, even when sanctioned by Eru. You cannot effect an entire world without some kind of repercussion. It is all a matter of who or what will absorb the consequences. I once heard of a Jumper who used a spell that let her reverse the rotation of a planet. The results were beneficial to her cause, but the subsequent gravitational reversal caused terrible storms across that world. It recovered, but not before many lands were flooded."

"But why do that if such grave consequences would occur," Claire asked.

"Well, which would you have? The Ring of Power fall into Sauron's hands and the whole of that story you hold go to pieces, or a flood across the entire landscape? The point is that Realm Spells are only to be used when the consequences are worth it. And it is because of this factor that they are extremely risky to use. Only use your time travel option if absolutely necessary. Indeed I would advise you not to use it at all."

"Yeah," Claire said looking down at her hands absentmindedly. "That's what Yavanna said. I have just always thought that it would be fascinating to time travel."

"Well you already have," the elf said. "When you travel between worlds you are essentially time traveling. Each world had its own separate time. Indeed another term for 'worlds' could be 'times' or 'ages'." The elf cupped her hands together like she was holding a ball. "Each world is separated by its own bubble of time. When you enter a world, you break through that bubble. That is why in order for you to travel through time, you must leave this world and enter it again. Once you set foot in a realm you are bound by its time, yet when you break free you can move as you please. The catch is that you never know 'when' you will be when you enter a world. If you wanted to go to a certain realm and find someone, it would be extremely difficult. I found this out when I was searching for Jadis. Even if I had been able to go to Narnia, there was no guarantee that she would be there. I might arrive after she was dead or perhaps even before she arrived there. Eru is in control ultimately, which is why all time travel must be sanctioned. Even jumping from world to world on a whim can be very dangerous. Calculations and planning must be made."

Claire found all of this extremely fascinating. It was amazing that even things like magic and time travel had strict rules and laws. She had always thought that the supernatural was often a massive deus ex machina fix all. But the more Elrain told her, the more she came to realize that even the most magical ability had rules. Rules that carried a heavy cost when broken.

* * *

As they drew closer to Lothlorien the woods became thicker and the hills higher. The terrain was more difficult and they both were looking forward to staying in one place even if it would only be for a few days. Elrain informed Claire that she had been to Lothlorien before and had met Galadriel. In fact Elrain had lived there for quite some time on another mission to Middle-earth, so she was confident that the elves would remember her. This was reassuring to Claire who remembered how suspicious and guarded the elves in the Golden Wood could be. When the Fellowship entered it, Legolas and Aragorn had vouched for them, so she hoped that they wouldn't run into too much trouble with Elrain leading the way.

On the last night that they made camp before reaching the borders of Lothlorien, they had talked, shared a few more stories, and then quickly fallen asleep. Claire however found herself awoken in the night, but she wasn't sure what the cause had been. As she peered over the edge of her cloak that was wrapped around her, she saw the star-lit clearing that they were camped in. The fire had long gone out. She thought she could see the faintest light in the east which made her wonder if it was perhaps very early morning.

As she pondered this, she got the sudden sensation that she was being watched. The woods were too quiet for early morning. Not a breath of breeze stirred anything, which made the tree to her left seem all the more strange. One of the branches high above was shivering. It bounced and she could hear a scratching noise, like a squirrel or something with claws scraping bark. It was dark, so Claire chalked it up to just that: a squirrel.

But then it moved. There was a soft whoosh and the branches of the tree directly in front of her shivered. There had been no squirrel and even if there had been one, no squirrel could have jumped that far. "Do they have flying squirrels in Middle-earth?" she thought to herself.

The tree branch in front of her shivered again and this time there was a distinct _thunk_ on the ground at the foot of the tree. This time she had actually seen something that made her hair stand on end. Two distinct indentations were made in the leafy floor of the wood. They had appeared when she heard the thunk. The only possible explanation spun in her mind and she almost yelped in fear.

"Elrain," she whispered as she shook the sleeping elf. "Wake up! There is something in the woods with us."

"Hmm?" The elf sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"There's something invisible in these woods," Claire said quickly. "Use _the sight_ and see what it is. Quick! It's right in front of us."

Elrain gave her a confused look, but the girl's concern was enough to convince her. The elf closed her eyes meditatively for a moment. When she opened them, that soft blue glow lit up the leaves in front of her. She scanned the area and said, "I don't see anything. Are you sure you weren't dreaming?"

"No," Claire retorted. "Look right there. See those footprints?"

"I see indentations in the leaves, but I don't see…." She paused and stood up to get a closer look. Walking over to where Claire had indicated, she crouched low with her back to the girl. "If these are footprints they weren't left by a person. They look like prints from...cloven hooves. But they're huge."

Elrain turned around to Claire to say something else, but froze, her eyes growing wide.

"Claire it's behind you!" Elrain yelled and Claire nearly jumped out of her skin. The girl reeled around and drew her sword in one swift motion, a move that surprised even her. It's amazing what fear can do in the heat of the moment.

"What is it?" Claire said frantically staring into the trees. She could see nothing and the thought of something she couldn't see lurking there chilled her to the bone.

"I don't know," Elrain said. "It's not Morlyg. I would be able to tell if it was a demon. It's some kind of winged person." She paused and then said into the darkness, "Who are you and whom do you serve?"

No response came from the dark cluster of trees. Claire heard a whooshing sound and Elrain took a step back, staring up into the trees. "It flew off," she said astonished. She peered up into the canopy. "It just spread its wings and flew off. It's gone."

The two travelers stood in silence for a moment. The sky in the east was turning a subtle shade of pink and a few birds could be heard singing in the distance. Whatever it had been, it was indeed long gone. Claire was very glad that they would be entering Lothlorien soon. She didn't want to spend another night in the open knowing that something invisible that Elrain couldn't identify was lurking somewhere amongst the trees.


	15. The Vanaloke

**The Vanaloke**

It was now the middle of February and Claire was well aware that the Fellowship had arrived in Lothlorien before them. So it wasn't very surprising when she and Elrain ran into elves guarding the southern border. She remembered that orcs had followed the Fellowship which had put the elves on edge. To Claire's great relief, the elves recognized Elrain and after exchanging a few words in Elvish she informed Claire that they would be permitted to enter.

A few of the elves they had met led them deeper into the Golden Wood. Over hill and woody glade they walked until at last Caras Galadhon was in sight. It had long been a desire of Claire's to see the redwood trees of California, yet now she realized that they had nothing on the trees of the heart of elvendom in Middle-earth. The trunks stretched upward like sky scrapers with bridges and walkways spanning between them. The forest floor also teemed with life. There were structures of the most elegant architecture and here and there were gardens and dells set in the earth. The golden leaves threw warm tones on all they touched.

After climbing more stairs than Claire ever thought existed, they made their way to the throne room of the Lord Celeborn and the Lady Galadriel. The two elves rose from their seats as Elrain and Claire entered and Claire awkwardly mimicked Elrain's elvish salute.

"Great Lord and most renowned Lady," Elrain began, addressing the two who stood before them. "It is an honor to be accepted into your fair wood once more."

"Well met, Lady Elrain," Celeborn said in a strong yet kind tone. "You are always welcome in our fair dwelling especially in these dark times. But who is your companion you bring with you?"

Elrain turned to Claire and with a look of pride in her eyes she said, "This the Venë Faeur whom Palanion the Seer spoke of long ago. She is my friend and traveling companion. I have been helping her along her quest."

Claire stood awkwardly for a moment until she realized that this was her cue to introduce herself.

"A pleasure to meet you," she said eyes bowed. She had wanted to look at Galadriel, but found it more difficult than she had thought. She remembered what the members of the Fellowship had said about her gaze. How it revealed things about them that they might not have liked. In addition, Claire was quite surprised at Elrain's introduction. "She actually seems _proud_ of me," she thought to herself. "She knows I'm just a nerd and not a warrior and she's still proud of me." The realization that someone had the slightest confidence in her warmed her heart and gave her more confidence in return.

Claire looked up and met the eyes of the Lady Galadriel. The elf woman was taller than she had thought and her white dress was like pure snow. The Lady was looking right at Claire and for a moment the thought passed through her mind that this elf knew everything about her. As if here at last was someone who might say, "Yes Claire you are dreaming. You can wake up now." Yet the longer she stared into her eyes, the more Claire wondered if that supposition was false. But this time the thought of it all being real didn't make panic rise in Claire's chest. There was peace mixed with the excitement of adventure. She found that she was smiling and Galadriel smiled back.

"Does one so young find a place like this wondrous?" the Lady asked Claire.

"Oh yes," Claire breathed, almost laughing. She wasn't quite sure what had come over her, but her nervousness has suddenly melted away. "The Golden Wood is truly a wonder. I can honestly say I have never been anywhere in my life that is so beautiful."

Galadriel laughed at Claire's childlike wonder and Claire's smile turned into a wide grin.

"We are honored to have someone of your precedence in our midst," Galadriel said to Claire. "I read the text foretelling your coming long ago, though like many its meaning was unknown to me. Yet it is not surprising that you would come at such a time as this."

"These are dark days indeed," Celeborn said. "Alas we have received dark tidings in the past days that may trouble you."

"What tidings," Elrain asked, concern spreading across her face.

Both Celeborn and Galadriel bowed their heads mournfully. "We have received word that Mithrandir has fallen into darkness. The nine walkers from Rivendell passed through Moria. Alas they met an evil that even he could not overcome."

Elrain's jaw dropped. There was a moment where she looked like she was trying to keep her composure. She looked over at Claire and seeing the young girl's expression, realized the awful truth.

"You knew about this?" Elrain whispered, her voice breaking.

"Yes," Claire said softly. "I'm sorry."

"The other eight from Rivendell are grieving as well," Celeborn added. "We trust that despite this terrible news, your stay will be comforting."

An attendant approached and led Claire and Elrain to their quarters. There was an area east of the largest tree at the center of the city where there were several houses and gardens built into the earth against the massive tree trunks. It was how Claire had always imagined a fairy village might look. The perfect harmony of architecture and nature.

In the middle of the area was a large garden with pools and streams. This seemed to be a common area for guests. Indeed, after Elrain and Claire had set their packs upon their reserved beds, they took a walk in the garden and found two hobbits smoking pipes. The two halflings turned as they approached and one of them gasped.

"Claeo?"

"Pippin!" Claire said smiling. "Good to see you again."

The hobbit jumped down from his perch on a nearby bench and approached them, pipe in hand. His companion also stood to greet them.

"Who is this," the other hobbit inquired. He was obviously older than Pippin, yet Claire was sure he wasn't Frodo or Sam.

"Oh yes! Merry, this is Claeo. She's a friend of Mr. Bilbo's. I met her back in Rivendell. Claeo, this is Meriadoc Brandybuck."

Claire shook hands with the other hobbit who smiled up at her. "Pleased to meet you. But please call me Merry."

"Pleased to meet you as well," she said excitedly. She turned to see Elrain hanging back. "Oh and have you two met my friend Elrain?"

Elrain gave her an awkward look and stepped forward. "She's from Rivendell and has traveled all this way with me," Claire added.

Elrain shook both their hands. "Pleased to meet you," she said. "How long have you and your company been in the Golden wood?"

The two hobbits looked at each other quizzically. "Good question," Pippin said. "Would you say it's been a month, Merry?"

"Yes, at the very least. Just shy of a month," the elder hobbit replied before puffing his pipe. "Did you just arrive?"

When the elf and the young girl nodded, Pippin asked, "But didn't you both leave before the company?"

"We did," Claire said regretfully. "But we took the gap of Rohan. Let's just say it was a good thing you didn't go that way."

At the mention of their route from Rivendell, the two hobbit's faces fell slightly. Claire forgot that the "death" of Gandalf was still fresh in their thoughts and she kicked herself for not being more mournful. But it was hard to grieve for someone who you knew wasn't dead.

"I am so sorry to hear of the tragic events in Moria," Elrain said to the two hobbits. At least her grief was genuine.

After exchanging a few more words with the hobbits, the two groups parted ways. After exploring the surrounding area, Elrain and Claire returned to their quarters to rest. Their dwelling consisted of a small one room structure set into the side of a tree. On each side of the room were two simple beds. It was about noon, but the long journey had worn them both out. As they laid down to take a nap Elrain asked Claire, "Why didn't you tell me about Gandalf?"

"That's a good question," Claire said as she eased onto her mattress. It had been so long since she had slept in a proper bed that the soft surface seemed like it might give way if she pressed too hard on it. "Do you _want_ me to tell you before things happen? Or would you rather not know?"

Elrain sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I didn't know Gandalf as well as most, but I considered him a friend. I also know how important he was for this mission."

"All I can say," Claire said softly, "Is that what happened in Moria will have an impact for good." She shifted into a more comfortable position and closed her eyes and muttered, "Hopefully we will both make it far enough to see it."

And with that the two travelers fell asleep.

* * *

Claire woke to Elrain shaking her from sleep. It was dark outside and the golden shades of the wood had taken on a dark blue color.

"What time is it?" Claire muttered blearily.

"It's about 10 o'clock at night."

"Why are we getting up now? I know our sleeping is off, but couldn't we just sleep through the night?"

"We have been summoned to the Lord and Lady's council chamber. An attendant from the throne room came by here a few moments ago and told me of this. All he said was that we are needed."

"What for," Claire asked, still annoyed at being woken up.

"I'm not sure," Elrain said. "But if they are summoning us, we had better go."

Claire obliged and soon they were again walking up endless flights of stairs. Claire muttered a comment about "elves being so smart, but they can't invent elevators" and Elrain laughed.

The council chamber was a round room similar in shape to the throne room, but not as large. There were seats around the edge of the wall with two seats that were more ornate reserved for the Lord and Lady. The silver lamps hung from the ceiling casting a soft blue glow upon all who were there. Above the center of the chamber hung lamps of a more golden hue creating a subtle spotlight effect upon whoever stood there.

This was all very beautiful to take in, but as Claire and Elrain entered, the setting was the last thing their eyes were drawn to. The room was filled with elves talking to one another, the Lord and Lady stood in the midst talking as well, but it was the individual standing in the very center of it all that drew Claire and Elrain's attention.

Doubt flooded back into Claire's mind. There in the center of the chamber stood the dragon lady that Claire had drawn in her church notes before all her adventures began. In fact the creature that stood speaking to Celeborn was exactly like her, from the way her horns swooped back from her long horse like head, to the way her wings folded gracefully at her sides, to the manner of clothes she wore, to the way her long tail curled on the floor behind her - everything was precisely as Claire had drawn it. There were two differences that Claire noticed. She was amazed to see this creature in color now instead of HB graphite grey. Standing beneath the central lamp, the dragon lady's bright green skin seemed to glow. She also wore shoulder armor that was shiny and dark blue; very similar to the large hoof like claws on her feet. Seeing this character that she thought she had made up standing in the flesh no more than 20 feet away, gave Claire goose bumps.

Elrain was in awe of the creature as well, but she was more curious at Claire's reaction. Claire was snapped out of her gawking by the elf asking, "Have you seen her before?"

Yet before Claire could answer, a bell was rung and the elves in the chamber scattered and made their way to their seats. Claire and Elrain followed suite and sat alongside the elves, though they looked out of place next to everyone there.

When silence finally fell in the room, only the Lord Celeborn and the strange dragon lady stood in the center of the room. Celeborn addressed the chamber in the common speech.

"Lords and Ladies and distinguished guests," he began. "You are no doubt wondering who this stranger is in our midst. Her arrival was a wonder to us all and her tale even more wondrous. She has proven herself to be trustworthy and I am sure that she will play a part in the coming days. However I believe her tale is best told in her own words."

Celeborn turned to the dragon lady and bowed slightly. She dipped her long head in acknowledgement. The Elf lord returned to his seat so that now only the strange visitor stood in the center of the round chamber. Claire now caught that her eyes were of a deep purple. "It figures that her eyes would be purple," Claire thought to herself. "That's my favorite color."

"I am sure you are all curious as to who and what I am," the dragon lady began. "For no elf has seen another of my kind before. There is a reason for that which I will relay to you all. I am called Laemellon, first born of the house of Arramar. I am one of the Vanaloki, a people from the edge of the Sundering Sea.

"You all know of the creation of Arda and the song of the Ainur and how they, at the direction of Eru Illuvatar sang all that is into existence. You also know of how Aulë created the Dwarves and that though he disobeyed the will of Eru, his heart was pure and thus the dwarves were spared and allowed to share Middle-Earth with the Children of Illuvatar.

"It is said in the legends of my people that one of the Maiar, a servant of Manwe, desired for herself a similar thing. If Aulë could create a people of his own, why could she not do the same? This Maia found for herself an island on the edge of the Sundering Sea and there she created the Vanaloki, my people. But when Illuvatar found what she had done, He was dismayed at her disobedience. Seeing that the Vanaloki were innocent of their own existence and a noble people, He permitted them to live and the Maia's wishes were fulfilled. Yet with this came consequences. Illuvatar decreed that no Vanaloke would be permitted to leave the island and that any that did violate this without His blessing would surely die. They were never to have contact with the Children of Illuvatar until such a time as He saw fit.

"At this decree, bitterness and wrath began to fester in the Maia's heart. She came to the Vanaloki and bid them reject this command of Eru and fly with her across the sea. But the Vanaloki's hearts were pure. Not one of them joined her.

"Thus did the Maia curse her own creation and vow to return to the island someday and on that day, she said, we would regret our choice to follow Eru instead of the one who made us."

The dragon lady, or Laemellon as she now identified herself, paused and took a deep breath. Anguish spread across her reptilian face.

"Thousands of years passed," she continued. "And my people flourished on the island. We did not have contact with the elves, but certain other Maiar went too and fro teaching us languages and other such skill. That is how I am able to speak to you in your own language. We Vanaloki have studied most forms of elvish and the common speech throughout the ages.

"Then there came the day when the Maia who had formed us returned. She brought with her an army of ships and men from the east. The Vanaloki had been a peaceful people with no need of any articles of war or weapons of any kind. Thus they could not defend themselves from the marauding horde that descended on them. At the bidding of the Maia who had betrayed us, they set out to slay every vanaloke child on the island. From those just learning to fly to the baby born the day before. Only one child survived, saved only by the hand of Eru Himself.

"As the ships sailed away from the grief stricken island, several vanaloki purposed to fly to Middle-earth to avenge the deaths of their children. Though they were admonished to obey the will of Eru, they left. They were never seen again.

"The child that was spared from the slaughter was said to be a sign of the sovereign hand of Eru on the Vanaloki people. It was said by our eldest of prophets that one day a descendant of that child would fly across the sea with Eru's blessing and aid in the destruction of that cursed Maia who slaughtered our children." Laemellon's voice reverberated through the chamber as she spoke, the passion rising in her voice. "I am this descendant. Last of a long line who have waited patiently. It was spoken over me when I was born that when I had come of age, I would fly across the sea and stand by the side of one who was to come. A warrior whose destiny was to slay this wicked Maia. And it was said that this warrior would be called the Venë Faeur."

Claire began to sweat a bit now. For the first time she actually wondered if she wasn't mistaken of her own identity.

"Great elves of Lothlorien," Laemellon boomed, her arms outspread, "I have come to you to find out where I may find this Venë Faeur. I have been told that this great warrior is here."

Elrain looked over at Claire who now was staring wide eyed at the scene before her. The elf touched Claire's shoulder and whispered, "You have to go up there."

Claire gave her a worried look. The elf stood pulling the young girl with her.

"She is here," Elrain said rather loudly. She stepped to the side and pointed to Claire who now stood sheepishly with hunched shoulders. "This young woman is the one you seek."

Laemellon turned and looked at Claire. The Vanaloke's gaze was intense. Claire wondered exactly how many years it took to 'come of age' for a vanaloke. How many years had she been looking forward to this moment? The look on the vanaloke's face seemed to indicate that it was long enough to find Claire disappointing.

"You?" she said, her scaly brown furrowing. "But you...you are only a child."

"She is more than qualified to face this Maia you speak of," Elrain interjected. "She is wise and has been sent by Eru Himself to destroy Morlyg."

At the word 'Morlyg', Laemellon let out a soft hiss. Elrain gave Claire a gentle shove in the back and the young girl approached the vanaloke. Laemellon's shoulders were just a few inches above Claire's which if she had been human, would have put her at about 5' 9". However, her long reptilian neck added to her height. Thus Claire stared up into the vanaloke's gaze. Laemellon cocked her head like a bird and fixed Claire with one purple eye. She examined her for a few moments and then her expression softened.

"No matter," she said nonchalantly. "I was prepared for something like this to happen. I didn't train my whole life to come across the sea and be deceived." She gave Claire a sly look, the edges of her small mouth easing back into a smug grin. She reached down with her left hand and grabbed Claire's right wrist.

"Though we have been exiled since the creation of the world," she said. "The Vanaloki have many gifts. One is that we can tell when people are lying simply by touching their skin." Laemellon placed Claire's right hand upon her own wrist. Claire thought it awkward, but then wondered if this was some kind of Vanaloki tradition.

With the young girl now holding her wrist tightly, Laemellon said, "I have a question for you Venë Faeur." She said Claire's elvish name in a mocking tone. "One that none save who I am meant to protect can answer truthfully." Laemellon smiled. Claire was certain that this vanaloke thought she was a liar. Claire wondered if she was right.

"Do you recognize me?"

The question caught Claire so off guard that she stood gaping for a minute. Of course the answer was yes. She had drawn a picture of her down to the last detail. But the coincidence was too good to be true. She was seriously beginning to doubt if she hadn't been right all along and this was one big crazy dream.

"I... I do," she said softly at first and then more confidently, "I do recognize you."

Laemellon was dumbstruck. It was evident from her expression that she knew Claire wasn't lying. She had been so sure and now the full weight of all the facts were crashing in upon her. Claire released her wrist as the vanaloke took a step back. She was utterly flabbergasted.

Then she did something that Claire did not expect. She dipped her head, her long snout and horns now perpendicular to the floor, and bowed. Her wings spread out behind her like a cape and her hands were outspread at her sides. Claire now noticed that she wore a sort of metal headpiece. It fastened around her horns and featured two long chains that ran from the main headpiece to loops set in her horns which were pierced to accommodate. A portion of the accessory spread across her forehead like a crown.

"I have come so far," Laemellon said at last. "Permit me to stand at your side and avenge my people. Forgive me for doubting you."

Claire suddenly realized how awkward this entire scene was. Every elf had eyes on them and this creature was bowing to her like she was someone important. She wanted to take Laemellon by the arm and say, "No no! Don't bow to me. I'm not important" but she wondered if that might be more embarrassing to the vanaloke kneeling before her.

"It's quite alright," Claire said at last. "I would be honored for you to come with me. Please, rise."

Laemellon stood and Claire thought she saw a tear in the vanaloke's eye. Yet the expression on her face was more annoyed than humbled. Claire wondered if her own appearance was that disappointing to look at.

Celeborn said a few more words and the council was dismissed. Soon only Claire, the vanaloke, and Elrain remained in the chamber. Laemellon stood rigid and silent as if awaiting orders from Claire and the silence made the young girl uncomfortable. At last Elrain spoke.

"All formalities aside, it is an honor to meet you," she said with an elvish salute. "I am Elrain."

Laemellon mimicked her salute. "Well met. I apologize if I alarmed you earlier today in the forest. I wasn't sure who you were so I stayed concealed. It is an ability of my people to blend into our surroundings to avoid others."

Claire gasped and exclaimed, "You were the invisible winged person we encountered!"

"I was indeed," she said flatly. She turned to Elrain. "I take it you are companion to Venë Faeur?"

"You can call me Claeo," Claire interjected. The vanaloke acknowledged her with a blank look and then turned back to Elrain.

"Do you know where I can find lodging? The Lord Celeborn said that you would be able to show me where I can rest for the night."

"Yes," Elrain said. "Come with us. We will show you the way."

As the three of them walked down the seemingly endless steps, Claire couldn't help notice that Laemellon was ignoring her. The vanaloke addressed all inquiries to Elrain, but didn't give Claire the time of day. When they reached the guest area, they found a small room next to Elrain and Claire's that was vacant. Laemellon bid them goodnight and went inside. Elrain and Claire returned to their room as well.

As soon as Elrain had shut the door after them, she turned to Claire and exclaimed, "How in all the Worlds did you pull that off?"

"What do you mean," Claire asked with a confused look.

"Recognizing her! I thought you said that humans were the only sentient beings in your world. So surely you don't have creatures like that in your realm. How did you recognize her? Or did you fool her somehow?"

"I did recognize her," Claire said meekly. "That's actually something...well the last thing about myself that I haven't told you. Before I came here, back in my world, I drew a picture of her. Just a random thing from my imagination."

"Oh I see," Elrain said thoughtfully as she sat down on her bed. "You are having doubts about about this being real? You think this is evidence that it's all in your head?"

"Well it's not the first. I drew you too."

Elrain leaned back surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, standing next to her. I also drew Pippin, that hobbit you met when we first came here." Claire rubbed her face with her hands in frustration. "I just...it's really hard not to think this is a dream when I see a creature, that I'm fairly sure I made up standing in front of me exactly like I drew her."

"Oh but see this makes sense," Elrain said cheerfully. "You must have had a premonition."

"But I told you, Elrain. I can't see into the future. I get all my knowledge from the book."

"But you are also a Realm Jumper," the elf said smiling. "Don't underestimate what Eru can do through you."

Claire paused and then said, "Why do you believe in me so much? I haven't proven myself to be all that great and yet you stuck up for me back there. I...I don't deserve your faith in me."

Elrain came and sat next to Claire and wrapped her arm around her in a side hug. Claire thought it very much reminded her of the way her own mother often comforted her. "I had my doubts at the beginning," the elf said. "But I have peace that you are who you say you are. I can't really explain it, but I think that there is more to you than meets the eye.

"Thanks Elrain," Claire said. "That means a lot."

The elf squeezed her shoulder and then walked back to her own bed. "And in light of that," she added. "Don't let smug dragon princess back there get you down."

Her cynicism made Claire chuckle regretfully. "She doesn't seem very impressed with me."

"She'll come around," Elrain said. "I've dealt with people like her before. She strikes me as the type who has been groomed for one illustrious purpose. So much so that her expectations are set far too high and when they aren't met, she pouts like a child. My advice is to not let her walk all over you. If she really has been sent to protect you and help you defeat Morlyg, she should respect you."

"I suppose so," Claire said thoughtfully. And with that they both fell asleep.


	16. The Mirror

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. February.**

 **14** The Mirror of Galadriel. Gandalf returns to life, and lies in a trance.

 **_ . _**

 **The Mirror**

The next day was the 14th of February. That evening Elrain and Claire sat relaxing in a garden area near the guest houses. Elrain was reclining on a bench reading and Claire was hunched over, sitting cross legged on the ground surrounded by papers and maps. After nearly sleeping half the day away as they recovered from their long three month trek, Claire was already beginning to make plans for the next phase of their journey. By the light of a silver lamp that hung from a nearby tree branch, Claire examined the timeline in the back of her copy of _The Lord of the Rings._

"So," she said rubbing the back of her neck absentmindedly, "I'm supposed to seek the council of Galadriel and then after that Morlyg will strike. I assume that means I need to follow the Fellowship, which might be an issue for us."

"Why is that," Elrain asked.

"Well, I have yet to 'seek her council'. At least to my knowledge. How do we go about doing that? Do we have to make an appointment or something? The Fellowship is leaving the day after tomorrow and we have to follow them, so it's got to be sometime tomorrow. And for that matter when are we going to rest? I don't like the idea of getting back on the road after only two days of rest. We walked for three months! My feet are still punishing me for that."

"Perhaps they can lend us some horses?" Elrain offered. "At least for part of our journey. I agree. I would rather have a bit longer to rest up from three months of walking." Elrain paused and looked up from the book she was reading. "Maybe we can request an audience with her tonight? I'm sure someone could find out for us."

"No tonight won't work."

"Why not?"

Before Claire could answer, the two of them heard voices nearby. They looked and spied two small figures strolling down a path on the edge of the garden. As they drew closer the elf and the young human heard their conversation.

"Well, you can't see nobody working it," said one of the people. "No fireworks like poor Gandalf used to show. I wonder we don't see nothing of the Lord and Lady in all these days."

"Because of them," Claire said in answer to Elrain's question. The young girl was grinning from ear to ear. She stood up and tried to get a better view of the two hobbits passing by. They were of course Frodo and Sam. "Those two hobbits will be meeting with Galadriel tonight and looking into the mirror."

Elrain came over to where Claire was and watched with her as the two hobbits strolled off into the wood.

"Really?" she said surprised.

"Yes. And then afterwards they will all meet, the whole Fellowship and the Lady Galadriel and the Lord Celeborn, and they will decide to leave on the 16th."

"What are you two staring at?" came a voice from behind.

Claire and Elrain spun around to see Laemellon standing behind them.

"Ah, Laemellon," Claire said trying to sound as friendly as possible. "We just saw Frodo and Sam pass by. They are two of the hobbits that came with the Fellowship. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Yes," the vanaloke said dryly. "Though I know little of this 'Fellow-ship'. What is that?"

Claire began the long explanation of the matter of the Ring of Power and the Fellowship that was formed in Rivendell. She gave the cliff notes version, but tried to emphasise how important the hobbits were to the whole thing. Relaying the story also got Claire excited and she found herself having to slow down. When she finished, the vanaloke had an expression on her face that the young girl recognized all too well. The expression that said "Wow...you really know a lot of useless nerd stuff. You should get a life."

"Fascinating," was the vanaloke's response. "And are these half-lings great warriors to be able to bear such a burden?"

"Oh no. Quite the opposite," Claire said. "But that doesn't mean they don't have the resolution to be heroes." Claire was grinning from ear to ear again. "That's why you and I need to protect them at all costs."

"I am not concerned with these 'half-lings'," Laemellon said with a tone of disgust. "I saw them in the garden this morning and if you ask me they are hardly capable of great feats."

If Elrain hadn't grabbed Claire's arm, the young girl might have decked the vanaloke then and there. With her mouth hanging open the young girl stuttered, "Wu...hey now! Be careful what you say. Those 'Half-lings' are more capable than you could even fathom."

Laemellon turned away from them and strode away, her wings folded behind her back and her tail flicking back and forth as she walked. "We will see."

* * *

The next day came and despite their best efforts, Claire and Elrain had still not been able to speak to Galadriel. They had asked around, but were told that the Lady was busy and that she would summon them when she became available. This frustrated Claire to no end. The idea that they might have to hurry up and leave the next day made her more exhausted. On top of that, Laemellon seemed to get more distant and hoity toity with each passing hour. At one point Claire and Elrain found her relaxing on a high branch of a tree. When they asked her to come down and help them make plans for leaving Lothlorien, she said she would speak with them later and then ignored them for the rest of the afternoon.

"I thought she was going to be really cool," Claire said afterwards. "But this Laemellon is a grade A jerk."

As evening fell, Claire found herself in the same spot that she had been when they spotted Frodo and Sam the night before. Staring out into the wood, an idea suddenly struck her.

"Hey Elrain," she called to the elf who was again sitting nearby. "Would you want to go for a stroll?"

Elrain peered over the edge of her book and raised an eyebrow. "Are you thinking what I think you're thinking?"

Claire nodded. "It's worth a try."

Elrain complied and the two started off in the direction that Frodo and Sam had taken the previous night.

And to the surprise of both, it worked. After walking for about ten minutes, they saw the Lady passing by. She beckoned to them and the elf and the young girl followed her. As they entered the dell where the mirror was, Claire began to get excited. She hadn't thought that _she_ would get to look into the mirror too, but apparently it was going to happen. When they reached the bottom and Galadriel had filled the mirror with water, the lady turned to the two of them and smiled.

"I have been told that you seek my council."

"Yes," Claire said stepping forward. "Thank you so much for meeting with us Lady. I was told by Yavanna that I should seek your council and after I did that Morlyg would make her first move."

"You are correct," Galadriel said, her eyes strong and unwavering. "I have knowledge of much, for the Mirror has shown me many things. However my words must be viewed in the light of your own tale and no one else's."

Claire wasn't sure what she meant by this, but the young human nodded politely in acknowledgment.

"Morlyg will strike first when the Fellowship breaks. After that time, she will only seek out the halflings. If you find them, you shall find her. Take heed young one. She is cunning and can take many forms. However, she is also bound by the limits of this world and the forms she takes, for much of her power was taken from her when she fell from Eru's favor. Yet the most vital council I can give you is this: Your dependance upon Eru is your greatest weapon. When you are in His power, Morlyg cannot touch you."

She paused and folded her hands in front of her. "That is my counsel for the Venë Faeur, but would Claeo ask anything else of me?"

The use of her other name surprised Claire. Suddenly as she looked into Galadriel's eyes, she remembered what had gone through her mind when they had first met.

"Can you...would you...answer the question that is so pressing in my heart? I am not sure of myself or any of this." Even as Claire asked, she felt ashamed of her doubt.

Galadriel smiled sympathetically. "Dearest one. You need not fear for what you doubt. All doubt what they know to be true. The question you must answer for yourself is not 'is this real?' but rather 'is it real to you?' Eru works all things together in His time. All you must do is follow the path He lays for you."

Claire remembered the similar words Elrain had said and glanced over at her elf companion. Elrain smiled knowingly, though she seemed a bit surprised that Galadriel had nearly quoted her word for word.

"Do you wish to look into the Mirror?" Galadriel asked as she stepped to the side of the wide basin next to her.

Claire stepped up, her heart beginning to pound in her chest. A million thoughts ran through her mind of what she might see. She assumed that it would all be things that she already knew from _The Lord of the Rings._

She couldn't have been more wrong.

As she stared into the water she saw the stars above reflected on its surface. The water rippled slightly and she beheld a different image. It was Frodo lying asleep, but the floor he was laying on was of an ornate design. Another thing was odd: the halfling had one long scratch across his neck that snaked up onto his face.

Before she could begin to wonder, the image changed. The landscape in her view looked like Mordor. The ground was coated with ash and in the distance the fiery mountain could be seen. Then she noticed a figure running towards the mountain. For a moment she thought it might be Elrain, for it was a woman with long black hair, but her clothes were very different from the elf's usual attire. Suddenly flames leapt up in front of her. The woman skidded to a halt, her feet stirring up ash around her.

Then the image changed again. Now Claire saw what looked like another female person sitting on a stone wall. From her view Claire could only see the girl's back, any hint of her face hidden by a mass of brown curly hair. Then Laemellon came over and sat next to the girl. It took a moment for the size difference to register. This female was either a human child or a hobbit. Laemellon wrapped an arm around her in a consoling manner and as she did this, it began to rain.

The girl sitting next to Laemellon began to turn her head and Claire leaned in close to get a better look. Yet suddenly the mirror was filled with a blinding white light. It was so bright that the light of it filled the dell and cast jagged shadows around all who were there. Claire reeled back shielding her eyes with her arm. After blinking for a moment, she struggled to look into the scene before her. There was nothing but blinding white light. Though no sound came from the Mirror, Claire could have sworn that she heard something. There was a roar like wind in her ears and through the noise she heard someone yelling. "Claire! Claire! Where are you?" the voice called. It sounded like the voice of a man and the louder it became, the brighter the light shone. Soon it was unbearable and Claire stepped back from the Mirror.

The light went out and spots danced before her eyes. Claire staggered for a moment and when things at last came into focus, she looked over at Galadriel. The Lady looked at her blankly and said, "What you see in the Mirror is a vision of what may be and in some cases what might have been. Take heed of what you have seen."

Claire stepped back still dazed from the bright light that had come from the Mirror. Galadriel turned to Elrain and said, "Elrain, do you also seek council?"

"No my lady," the elf said, but then added, "Unless there is some council you wish to give."

The Lady Galadriel paused, her eyes drifting eastward. "There is a storm coming," she said solemnly. "I fear that Lothlorien may fall with the rest of the world if the fate of the Ring of Power proves ill. I do not have council for you, but I do have a request. If it be permitted with those who guide your steps, I would ask that you remain here in the Golden Wood. You are skilled in combat and your sword would be of great use to us."

Elrain's brow furrowed. She glanced at Claire and said, "I was bidden to help the Venë Faeur on her path. However, I do not think that there is anything else that I need to teach her."

"Elrain," Claire said, frustration rising in her voice. "You...you can't leave me on my own! I haven't even discovered my Realm Jumper ability yet."

"You are not on your own," Elrain said softly as she placed a hand on Claire's shoulder. "You have Eru on your side as well as Laemellon."

Claire pulled a face and Elrain added, "Claeo, my friend, you are capable of more than you know. You think that you are as you put it "just a kid." But I see more in you."

The young girl still wasn't happy at the prospect of her closest friend thus far in Middle-earth staying behind. But before she could argue Galadriel announced, "It is settled then. We are honored to have you by our side Elrain." She turned to Claire. "As for your pressing concern on the manner of your journey, I have asked that two horses be set aside for you and the vanaloke. They will bear you swiftly where ever you wish."

Claire thanked the Lady Galadriel and the two of them left the dell and returned to their quarters. As they were preparing for bed Claire brought up the subject of Laemellon again.

"Are you sure I'll be ok with just me and the emo dragon? She doesn't seem to like me and she won't give me the time of day."

"Well she is wrong to do that," Elrain said. "Remember what I said before: Don't let her walk all over you. Be assertive."

"Sadly that's not something I'm very good at," Claire moaned. "Everytime I 'throw my weight around' so to speak, I end up looking like a fool. I'm not clever or fast enough to outwit or impress anyone."

"That may be so," Elrain said. "But you have something that she doesn't."

"Oh, and what's that?"

Elrain looked over at Claire and smiled. "Manners."


	17. The Fire Hand

**The Fire Hand**

Since the day she was born Laemellon had been told who she was supposed to be. The words spoken over her as she lay in her cradle foretold that she would be the chosen one the Vanaloki had waited for. In addition to this, she was heir to the royal line, so two responsibilities were on her shoulders. And as she grew older these weights became heavier and heavier.

In the years since Morlyg's attack upon their island, the Vanaloki had become very skilled in the art of combat. They formed a regiment of defenders who were vigorously trained in both ground and air assault as well as survival and military strategy. Laemellon had of course joined this group like all those in the royal line, yet her peers treated her differently. She was "special" apparently and would one day get to do what nearly all young Vanaloki wished to do: leave the island. Because of this, she didn't have many friends. As she moved from student to fully capable warrior, she had grown hard emotionally. When she had questioned why she should have to follow this path that others set before her, she was told that it was "the will of Illuvatar".

The infamous child who had survived Morlyg's slaughter had been immortalized in a monument at the highest point on the island. It was said that when the child's mother had flown to the highest peak, she was still pursued by Morlyg's army. With no hope for escape, the mother had cried out for the mercy of Illuvatar. Thus the mountain shook and the rocks gave way, leaving a tall narrow tower of stone with sides so steep, only someone with wings could reach its height. Laemellon would fly to this monument many times to visit the statue of the mother vanaloke clutching her child and looking up to the heavens in petition. Laemellon would often look into the mother's stone eyes and ask her how she could have put so much hope in someone she had never met. Indeed, this act was the last most of them had heard from Illuvatar. The seers and wise men of the Vanaloki heard from Him of course, but to the people in general there was silence.

Illuvatar was distant and Laemellon often thought it ironic that of all those she knew, He was the most distant from her. Her, the one who would have to fly across the sea and avenge her people. Her, the one whose entire life had been shaped by the words of a seer who supposedly heard from Him. Her, the one who had been estranged by her peers, not because of anything she had done, but because of what she would supposedly do. It didn't seem fair.

Inside the inmost halls of the palace built upon that island were the great paintings of the history of the Vanaloki: past, present, and some of what was said of the future. One of these paintings had always peaked Laemellon's interest and for good reason. It was the painting of Morlyg's defeat. The scene depicted the cursed maia in all her horrible glory, serpentine, with teeth bared, with a red curved sword raised high. On the other side facing her was the Venë Faeur, a great and powerful warrior clad in black and red with a cloak flowing behind them. And next to this warrior was a female Vanaloke standing tall and resolute. This apparently was supposed to be Laemellon, though she thought it all a bit too dramatic to be real.

One thing however had always stood out to her. The Venë Faeur had been depicted in many ways in their various lore. Sometimes this person was seen as a warrior, sometimes as an explorer, and sometimes as a seer. Yet there was one defining characteristic that always remained the same. The Venë Faeur's hands burned with blue fire. Most had seen this as a metaphor. Blue fire signified the power of Eru to the Vanaloki and it was said that this meant that the Venë Faeur's deeds would be empowered by Eru Himself. It was because of this depiction that the Venë Faeur had earned amongst the Vanaloki the title of "Naurbor, the fire hand."

In fact the Naurbor had such great esteem amongst the Vanaloki, that Laemellon had already begun to resent him or her before she left the island. She had trained her whole life to fight and take down the Maia who had wronged them so much. Yet this person, be they elf or man, would get all the acclaim for Morlyg's destruction. This also didn't seem fair.

Yet Laemellon had also learned not to question the duty that had been thrust upon her. Before she had left, there was a great ceremony. Every Vanaloke bid her farewell as a cheering crowd saw her off. As she made her way to the eastern port with the royal entourage, she didn't feel any pride or excitement. She felt cold, as if her whole life had led to this day only for it not to be as amazing as she thought it might be. But she had smiled and even given a speech. She was good at faking enthusiasm and passion apparently.

Bidding farewell to her family with hopes of returning someday, she flew off into the east with the golden hues of the setting sun at her back. Catching an upper current of air, she locked her wings and drifted for countless leagues. At last she set foot on the shores of Middle-earth, she immediately concealed herself for she had been told not to reveal herself to any save first an elf by the name of Galadriel.

Flying over miles of countryside, she saw a world that her people had only dreamed of. A world that was forbidden to her kind, yet had mysteriously swallowed up those Vanaloki that left in rebellion all those years ago. She couldn't help wonder what became of them and had kept her eyes peeled for any signs of their presence.

After encountering two wayward travelers in the woods near Lothlorien, she at last appeared before Galadriel. At first the elves had nearly killed her. Apparently her appearance was threatening and unknown to the inhabitants of Middle-earth. But when she had spoken in their own language and assured them of her purpose, she was given an audience with the Lord and Lady. To her surprise, they believed her story.

Then she was given an audience with the other elves of note and it was here that the young girl had stepped forth. She looked nothing like the painting save that her leather vest was black and red, a small detail that was most likely a coincidence. Yet when Laemellon had read the girl's thoughts and asked her the question, a special test given to Laemellon by the royal seer, she was shocked that the girl answered correctly.

At first Laemellon had been distraught. She had come so far and devoted her entire life to help….a child? But after some careful thought, she began to wonder if this was in fact a circumstance that would work to her advantage. This child certainly couldn't slay Morlyg; she could barely hold a blade. Could it be that the prophecy was wrong? Perhaps Laemellon was the to be the one to slay Morlyg and this girl was her helper? This thought began to sit well with the Vanaloke and by the next day after first meeting the girl, she had resolved that this must be the case.

As she had sat high in a tree avoiding, yet also listening to, the young girl and the elf, she perceived that this young human had some knowledge of where Morlyg would be. Indeed, when this "Claeo" and the elf had returned from speaking with the Lady Galadriel, they seemed to have knowledge of when the Maia would strike.

Laemellon was at last resolved as to what she must do. She would travel with this child, who would in turn lead her to Morlyg. Then she, Laemellon of the house of Arrarmar, would slay the cursed maia and win the renown that she deserved. Perhaps the young girl could help too. It didn't really matter. Whether she was in fact "the fire hand" didn't make a difference.

The day after she had spoken with Galadriel, Claeo approached the tree Laemellon was perched in and begged her to come down. The vanaloke didn't even answer her. Did she really need to regard such a small person when her task was that much greater? To Laemellon's surprise, she looked down to find Claeo climbing the tree. Soon the girl was sitting on the same large branch that she was. Apparently Claeo was someone who thought nothing of climbing or sitting in trees.

"I just need to let you know," Claeo said, "That we will be leaving tomorrow morning at 7am sharp."

Laemellon looked over at her and nodded in response.

"Also, would you prefer to walk or do you want a horse?"

"What is a horse," Laemellon asked.

Claeo gave a soft chuckle and said, "It's a beast of burden. You can see if that is what you would prefer in the morning. We are leaving from the southern gate. I will have a horse there for you if you need it. Also I advise you to procure water and food for at least a month's journey as well as any other supplies you need. I have been told that the elves can provide you with anything you wish."

Laemellon gave another curt nod.

The young girl sighed and asked, "Is there anything else you need?"

"No thank you," Laemellon said looking down at her fingernails. "I am sure I can manage."

She could feel Claeo's gaze on her and for a moment she thought the girl might get angry. At last Claeo muttered, "Okay" and began to climb back down the tree. Laemellon watched her leave and return to her room in the guest house. For such a great warrior, this so called Venë Faeur was easily pushed around. Laemellon had been bullied all her life and because of that she had learned to thrive on conflict. She could sense that Claeo was the opposite. From the way she spoke and interacted it was very evident that she hated confrontation in any aspect. The short conversation they had just had was evidence of that.

"That won't do you much good when you have to face a demon," Laemellon muttered. And with that she returned to her room in the guest quarters and promptly fell asleep.


	18. The Confrontation

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. February.**

 **17** Gwaihir bears Gandalf to Lorien.

 **23** The boats are attacked at night near Sarn Gebir.

 **25** The Company pass the Argonath and camp at Parth Galen. First Battle of the Fords of Isen; Theodred son of Theoden slain.

 **26** Breaking of the Fellowship. Death of Boromir; his horn is heard in Minas Tirith. Meriadoc and Peregrin captured. Frodo and Samwise enter the eastern Emyn Muil. Aragorn sets out in pursuit of the Orcs at evening. Eomer hears of the descent of the Orc-band from Emyn Muil.

 **_ . _**

 **The Confrontation**

Early the next morning Claire found herself laden with supplies and waiting at the southern gate of Lothlorien. Shortly after she arrived Elrain came striding up leading two horses behind her. The elf was dressed quite differently from how Claire had seen her in the past. She had traded her long black coat for what could only have been a uniform of some kind.

"I suppose you are really staying then," Claire asked as the elf handed the reigns of the first horse to her. This horse was a dark grey color and the large beast gave Claire a friendly nuzzle.

"Indeed I am," Elrain said with a consoling look. "They gave me this costume last night. I'm to report to the norther border this afternoon. Seems a few of the orcs that the Fellowship stirred up in Moria may still be hanging about. But I don't think we will end up dealing with that much today. It will probably be a bit boring. I also brought you this."

The elf handed Claire a leather pouch that was quite heavy. Claire opened it and peered inside.

"Is this...money?" the girl asked incredulously. "You're giving me money?"

"Yes," Elrain said. "Keep it close and spend it wisely. You never know when you may need to bargain. Sadly of all the things that are constant across the worlds, the power of money remains the most potent."

Claire smiled at Elrain's comment, but had trouble hiding her disappointment that they would be parting ways. She was less sure of herself than she had ever been and of all the people she had met, Elrain had the most confidence in her. The two were now good friends after traveling together for three months and Claire was loathe to leave a friend behind. She had so few of those in her own world it seemed.

Elrain placed a hand on her shoulder. "You'll be fine," she said. "I know that you don't have much confidence in yourself and honestly if I were in your shoes, I might feel the same way. But as has been said before, Eru called you to this task. He has prepared a path for you."

"Yeah, but I don't even know what my special Realm Jumper power is yet," Claire moaned. She cringed at her own whiny tone and fell silent. She was beginning to become convicted at how much she felt sorry for herself. At last she added, "Knowing what my special ability is would really help when I face Morlyg. What if I have to stop her from doing something and I'm still…" She gestured to herself and sighed.

"What? Still one of the only people in this realm that knows exactly what is going to happen? I'd say that's an impressive ability in and of itself. Claeo, listen. When the time comes that you have to face Morlyg and you sincerely ask Eru for help, He won't abandon you."

The two embraced. When they came apart they saw Laemellon walking up to them.

"Good morning Laemellon!" Elrain said cheerfully. "Do you know how to ride?"

The Vanaloke gave them both a high brow glance and strode over to the second horse. Taking the creature's head gingerly in her hands, the Vanaloke rested her head against the horse's. The large beast gave a soft whinny, but made not protest to her presence. Laemellon gripped the stirrup with her clawed foot and hoisted herself up onto the horse's back as if she had done it all her life. When she had gotten comfortable in the saddle, Elrain handed her the reigns.

"Um I should mention," Claire added sheepishly. "I don't know how to ride."

Elrain chuckled. "Oh you'll be fine on these horses. They know how to keep a rider on them. Just stand up in the stirrups if they start to run. You'll learn as you go. Also these horses will come back home if you tell them to. They are very smart animals not to mention incredibly resilient. I'm amazed that they would lend such beasts to you."

After putting the pouch of coins into her satchel bag, Claire got one foot in the stirrup and with much deliberation was finally sitting in the saddle. The elves gaurding the southern gate opened the doors and Claire could see the wooded path laid out before them.

"You are a day behind the Fellowship," Elrain said as she stood by Claire's horse. "They are going by river, but with you going by horse you should catch up with them at the Falls of Rauros."

"Perfect," Claire said taking a deep breath.

"May Illuvatar guide your steps dear Claeo," Elrain said.

"Thank you, Elrain. For everything. You're a good friend. That means more to me than you know."

The elf smiled up at her. "Till we meet again," she said.

Claire and Laemellon began to trot down the path when suddenly Claire remembered something.

"Oh and Elrain," she called back. "If it's any encouragement for your new job, there should be some excitement today in Lothlorien."

"Oh really?" the elf said.

"Yep. But don't worry. It's a happy surprise."

"I'll keep that in mind," Elrain called back as she watched the two horses and riders trot off down the wooded path.

* * *

"So how does your camouflage thing work," Claire asked her companion.

It was a little after 1:30 in the afternoon on their first day out from Lothlorien. The first half of the day had been spent in unbearably awkward silence as the two travelers rode down the wooded path heading south. It seemed that Laemellon wasn't in the mood to talk, but after they had stopped for an equally awkward lunch as the horses rested, Claire decided she would have a conversation with the vanaloke even if it was one sided.

"My what," Laemellon asked, not even bothering to turn her head or look at Claire. Their horses walked side by side since the path was wider now. The young girl leaned forward in the saddle, determined to break the vanaloke from her stoic disposition.

"The way you cloak yourself. Is it magic or a natural thing?"

Laemellon looked at her at last. "I don't really understand your question. Vanaloki have the ability to change their skin in order to blend into their surroundings."

"Ah, I see. But what about your clothes? And your shoulder armor things?"

Laemellon smiled wryly. "At a certain age, all vanaloki shed their skin. The shedding is saved and woven into thread to make what we call 'concealment' garments. My pauldrons are also made of my own shed claws so they also vanish when I conceal myself."

"You're clothes are made from dead skin?" Claire said pulling a face. "That's so…" The Vanaloke shot her a glance. "...interesting."

"You were going to say disgusting I assume? You and the other people in this land wear the old skins of other creatures do you not? In that line of thinking, such a thing is equally revolting."

"You have a point," Claire conceded, still looking at Laemellon's clothes with a furrowed brow.

The two plodded on for a few more minutes when Claire posed another question. "So do you have any weapons? Or do you just punch your way out of a fight?"

Laemellon turned her head this time. The expression on her reptilian face was a mixture of annoyance and pride. She lifted her right hand and spread her fingers out palm up. Her sharp fingernails began to extend till each nail was nearly ten inches long. Claire stared in wonder and was just about to ask how one fights with long nail claws, when Laemellon's fingers suddenly snapped together. Each nail was perfectly in line with the one next to it and together they formed a thick organic blade. The Vanaloke smiled and added, "This way we don't have to carry any weapons and can move about unseen. The Vanaloki are quite skilled in the art of stealth."

Claire swallowed. "I see," she said. "That's actually pretty incredible. I wouldn't have thought about that." Her own words made her mentally take a step back. Since she had left Elrain, she had begun to wonder again if this all wasn't some dream. The elf had been her support, keeping her grounded so to speak, but now that she was gone, the concept that none of this was real pressed in on Claire's mind. However, by her own admission, here was a thing that stood in contrast to that. If she did design the Vanaloki, if they were a construct of her imagination, why did things like this surprise her? The question was troubling and she tried not to focus too much on it. This whole venture was beginning to make her brain hurt.

This was the way things were for the rest of the day: Claire asking questions and Laemellon answering them smugly. At last they made their first camp of the journey from Lothlorien and it was here that Claire discovered another amazing ability of the Vanaloki.

Claire had begun to make a fire with flint and steel. She had watched Elrain do it a hundred times, but in this world, as was true in her own world, Claire was pathetic when it came to making a fire by hand. Yet she was determined to do it this time. She scraped the flint and steel together over and over, each time a spark leaping out and then dying off before it could ignite. To add to her gathering frustration, she heard Laemellon laughing at her. From her crouching position next to the tinder, Claire glared up at the vanaloke.

"Oh like you can do better," she retorted.

The Vanaloke bent down and grabbed a stick from the wood pile. Bringing it to her lips, she blew on it like one blows on a birthday candle, except the opposite thing happened. Flames shot from the vanaloke's lips and the stick burst into flame. She tossed it nonchalantly into the pile of tinder and it instantly caught flame. Claire, flint and steel still in hand, sat back on the ground dismally. Was there anything that this creature couldn't do? "Next thing I know, she'll be doing algebra just to show me up," Claire thought to herself.

As the rest of their journey went on, Laemellon became gradually more talkative. Yet Claire couldn't help feeling that her companion belittled her. Whenever the subject of Morlyg came up and what they would do when they found her, Laemellon tried to change the subject. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about it, but more like it didn't seem worth discussing to her.

* * *

As the Falls of Rauros drew near, Claire found herself overcome by a sense of dread that slowly grew into indifference. If this was all a dream, then none of it mattered right? Morlyg would most certainly kill her if they ever met and the thought of putting this whole fiasco to rest actually was a bit comforting. Traveling like this was hard. You couldn't bathe, the food was repetitive, and currently the company was far from charming. Claire found herself looking forward to getting this all over with.

At last the day came when the Fellowship was supposed to break. Laemellon and Claire had stayed a ways back from the river bank, but when they could see the rising mist of the falls above the treetops, they tied up their horses, hid their packs in a patch of bushes, and began to creep through the woods towards the river. Claire had absolutely no clue where exactly they were supposed to go, but she knew she had to protect the hobbits and the hobbits had to be somewhere straight ahead.

The sounds of fighting began to ring through the woods as they drew closer. Laemellon volunteered to go ahead of them and scout out the wood to make sure they didn't walk into any orcs. Claire had chuckled to herself after the vanaloke left. If only Merry and Pippin had been with someone like Laemellon when they got captured, it would have been a very different story.

Claire waited some time for Laemellon to return, but after about half an hour, she became impatient. The young girl, indifferent as ever, began to walk south toward the sound of the waterfall. Before she knew it, she was on the edge of the woods, looking out on a grassy area right at the edge of the falls. Ancient markers of stone, about 6 foot high each, dotted the clearing. Whatever they had been when they were built had been worn away by time and weather. The edge of the clearing ended in what could only have been a cliff overlooking the falls below. It looked like mist was rising from the ground, affording only the occasional view of the lands below.

The whole scene was quite beautiful actually. Clare was just beginning to consider walking out to that cliff and having a look at the falls when Laemellon came up suddenly beside her. The girl nearly jumped out of her skin as the vanaloke seemed to materialize out of thin air next to her. She started to make some quip about how you shouldn't sneak up and scare people when there are orcs about, but she never got the chance.

"I have seen her," Laemellon breathed, her purple eyes wide with fear. "I've seen Morlyg. She is here!"

"Where," Claire asked weakly. Seeing the usually confident vanaloke exhibiting fear made the young girl's knees almost give way.

"Heading this way. But there's something you need to know…"

Laemellon was cut off as a group of orcs and uruk-hai jogged into the clearing ahead of them. Claire and Laemellon ducked down lower into the bushes. They were far enough away that they were still well hidden, but close enough to see the faces of the creatures. Yet the thing that made Claire's heart leap the most were the two smaller figures amongst the troop. They both had sacks over their heads and had their hands tied behind their backs. These were most certainly Merry and Pippin.

One of the Uruk-hai was lagging behind the group, but as they all came into the clearing, he yelled something in orcish and the group stopped.

Laemellon gripped Claire's arm tightly and her breath came in gasps. "That's her!" she hissed. "That uruk is Morlyg. I saw her slay him in the forest a few moments ago. That's how she changes her shape. She kills a person and then takes their form."

As this reality processed in Claire's mind, another horrible reality became evident. This uruk who was actually Morlyg was walking up to the two orcs carrying Merry and Pippin. If what Laemellon was saying was true, then Morlyg was getting dangerously close to the hobbits.

Claire drew her sword as silently as she could manage. Laemellon looked at her surprised.

"What are you doing? No no no. Just wait." The vanaloke gripped Claire's arm even harder. "You can't just rush out there. Let me handle this."

But Claire wasn't listening. Her eyes were locked on Merry and Pippin. Uruk-Morlyg was now talking to one of the orcs holding on to one of the two hobbits. She couldn't tell which one it was because their faces were both covered, but if she had guessed, she would have said Pippin judging by his size. Uruk-Morlyg was saying something that was not sitting well with this particular orc. Indeed the whole troop was becoming agitated. After transferring custody of its hobbit to another nearby orc, the annoyed orc said something very nasty back to uruk-Morlyg. There was a pause and then in one swift motion, uruk-Morlyg drew its sword and lopped the annoyed orc's head clean off. The other orcs took a step back as the sword wielding creature said something that sounded very authoritative. They didn't argue.

Uruk-Morlyg strode over to the hobbit that was now bereft of a handler and grabbed him by the collar of his coat. Dragging him across the grass, it shoved him to the ground and then removed the sack from his head. It _was_ Pippin. The hobbit squinted as he tried to get his bearings on the horrible situation. His hands were tied behind his back and as he lay on the ground staring up at the uruk before him, Claire noticed that the other orcs were hanging back from the two of them.

Peregrin and uruk-Morlyg were closer to Laemellon and Claire than any of the individuals in the clearing. They couldn't have been more than 30 feet away by Claire's estimation. Claire's head was buzzing, both with Laemellon's pleading to let her handle this and with Claire's own rising panic. The creature in front of Peregrin was still holding the bloody sword that had been used to take out Pippin's handler moments before. The crude blade was dangerously poised in the creature's hand and Claire was certain that at any moment, Peregrin would lose his head as well.

"What do I do? What do I do?" Claire thought frantically.

 _Protect the hobbit. Stop the blade._

The thought came clear as anything in her mind. So clear, in fact, that she almost said out loud "But how?"

 _Protect the hobbit. Stop the blade._

All seemed to move in slow motion now. Laemellon was a distant voice, and the other orcs were a motionless background to the entire scene. Uruk-Morlyg was raising its sword high to strike Pippin. Claire knew there was only one thing she could do.

Breaking from Laemellon's grip, the young girl, sword in hand, leapt from the bushes and began running towards the two figures before her. Running had never been an activity of choice for Claire. "If you see me running," she used to say, "then you better run too, because something is probably chasing me." Not only that, but her balance had never been good either. At summer camp whilst all the cheerleaders and athletic girls pranced across the log bridges, you would find Claire scooting along on her rear, holding on for dear life. However both of these factors seemed to be absent as the young girl not only sped forward faster than she had ever gone, but as she reached the hobbit and the shape-shifting demon before her, she slid on her feet without falling, sword point forward.

Claire's blade stabbed over Pippin's head, catching uruk-Morlyg's blade with an ear shattering _clang_. The sound rang in Claire's ears as she drove her blade into the ground on the other side of Pippin, using it as a fulcrum to keep uruk-Morlyg's blade from advancing further. For a moment, everyone seemed to be frozen in shock. Claire because she had actually prevented Pippin from being killed, at least so far, Pippin because he had just almost lost his head, and uruk-Morlyg because of the appearance of this strange sword wielding adolescent.

Claire was on her knees with her hands above her head gripping the hilt of her sword. This put her face to face with a shocked Pippin whose expression changed from confused fear to wonder and perhaps even hopefulness. He looked like he might say something, but before he had the chance, Claire remembered that uruk-Morlyg was still standing there, its blade crossed with hers. She dared to look up and its eyes met her own. The chill that ran through her looking into those eyes weakened her grip on her sword for a moment, but she still held it resolutely.

Uruk-Morlyg looked like it might say something too, but never got around to it. Lifting its blade from Claire's in one swift motion, it shot out its hand and caught something in mid air. The funny thing was that there was nothing there, its hand was empty. But whatever it was, it was putting up a struggle.

"I see you little one," uruk-Morlyg growled.

The creature tightened its grip on the invisible thing and suddenly Laemellon materialized. Her neck was the thing that uruk-Morlyg had in its hand and the vanaloke struggled against the vice-like grip.

 _Put Pippin back_ , came the voice in the back of Claire's head. It made perfect sense and with this distraction it was the perfect moment.

Pippin was looking up at the whole scene bewildered. Not only had he been captured by orcs, almost killed, and saved by a random girl he met in Rivendell, but now there was a dragon-ish creature that he had never seen the like of before being choked to death in front of him. He was broken out of his awe by a swift tug on his shirt collar once again. Claire wasn't sure how much he weighed, but mercifully the grass was damp with the mist from the falls and she was able to drag him across the grass and back toward the orc party.

It was here that she realized the terrible thing that she would have to do for the sake of preserving the story. There was no choice in the matter. She scooped up the sack that had been over Pippin's head. She glanced up at the orc party behind him, now staring at the bizarre scene in front of them unsure of what to do next. Looking back down at Pippin, she could see the hopefulness drain from his face.

"I'm sorry," was all she could say as she thrust the bag over his head. He protested, yelling her name amongst other muffled words. She stood and backed away from the bound and struggling halfling and pointed at him. "Take him," she said in a commanding tone to the orcs, "He's yours."

The orcs hesitated for a moment, but soon one of the bigger ones strode forward and scooped Pippin up in one of its huge arms. With that the group began to move on and away from the clearing.

This whole exchanged couldn't have taken more than a minute and as soon as the orcs had Pippin in their possession, Claire turned back to see what was happening. Uruk-Morlyg still had Laemellon by the neck. The vanaloke's arms were limp at her sides and Claire prayed that she wasn't dead. Uruk-Morlyg was saying something that Claire couldn't hear. The young girl picked up her sword from where she had dropped it on the grass and held it in front of her shakily.

"Let her go!" she yelled, but her voice came out squeaky from nervousness.

Then Uruk-Morlyg threw Laemellon. The poor vanaloke went flying, limbs and wings flailing limply as she sailed through the air. Her body landed in the canopy of a nearby tree with a multipart crash. She disappeared into the branches as several leaves were shaken to the ground.

Uruk-Morlyg turned slowly, the bloody blade still in its hand. Its cold demonic eyes settled on Claire and it grinned evilly. Claire's palms were already sweating and she adjusted the grip on her blade. She held it out in front of her defensively like Elrain had taught her.

"So you are the challenger," the creature growled as it began to take slow heavy steps toward Claire. "I was told you might try to get in my way."

Claire felt her knees getting weak. "Those realm jumper super powers would be really helpful right now," she thought to herself. As the uruk in front of her advanced, she found herself instinctively backing up and as the creature spoke, the young girl soon found herself backed up against one of the old stone markers strewn about the clearing.

"I expected more," her opponent said. "Yet you are only a child. Do you know how to use that?" Uruk-Morlyg pointed its dripping sword at Claire's upheld blade. Claire didn't have an answer. Her throat had gone dry and the feeling of the stone behind her made panic rise in her chest.

Uruk-Morlyg swung its blade, much slower than the blow that had taken the other orc's head off. Claire caught it with hers, but not in the most efficient way. Similarly to when she had stopped this blade the first time, her hands were held high, with her sword nearly perpendicular to herself. The tip of her sword caught on the stone behind her as uruk-Morlyg pressed down and Claire soon realized that she had set up possibly the worst situation imaginable. This creature was pressing Claire's own sword down upon her; if Claire moved at all, her own blade would slice her head in two.

"Apparently not," uruk-Morlyg snarled gleefully. It bent its face close to Claire's, yellow fangs baring. "I can see that you are as pathetic as you look. A pity that we couldn't have a decent fight. Are you ready to die now?"

The demon began to apply more pressure on Claire's blade than before. It seemed to be putting forth no effort at all, whilst Claire was straining with every muscle in her body to hold her blade away from her face. She knew that she couldn't do this forever. Eventually her strength would wear off. She was going to die and not only that, she was going to have her own blade pushed through the bridge of her nose and into her skull. The reality of this filled Claire with the worst kind of fear. The horror that comes when you realize that there is no possible avenue of escape.

She had conceded earlier that if this was a dream it would be best to just fail and be done with it. Like in a video game when your character is down to its last bit of life and you realize it would be better to just die and start over. But this was no video game. The pain and strain in her weak muscles, the hot breath and stench of the uruk as it bore down on her, and the anticipation of a sharp, slicing, slow death, cleared away any doubts she had. This was no dream. And if by some chance it was, it was the most horrible nightmare she had ever had.

"Oh God! Dear God! Help me! I don't want to die! Please help me!" she screamed in her mind. She shut her eyes tightly. She couldn't bear to look into the creature's horrible eyes.

Two things happened.

First was the explosion. Like a massive discharge of electricity, a pulse of energy burst from where her sword made contact with the her opponent's blade. This pulse was accompanied by a loud _crack_ like a clap of thunder and the force blew the two opponents apart. Uruk-Morlyg was thrown backward and landed about twenty feet away. Claire, who's back had already been pressed against the stone marker, was thrust forward by the transfer of momentum and fell flat on her face. Her sword fell to the side and landed in the wet grass.

The second thing that happened was the fire. As Claire raised herself from the ground, she saw to her horror that her hands were on fire. She cried out in shock as she began to beat her hands on the grass to put them out, but nothing worked. She was crawling backwards now as if she could somehow get away from it, but her hands continued to burn. It took a moment, but she soon realized the obvious detail that she had failed to focus on. Her hands were on fire, but they weren't burning. The flesh on her fingers and palms was perfectly fine. There was a sensation of heat, but not a burning heat. The other odd thing was that the fire was blue instead of the standard white/orange that flames usually exhibit.

She staggered to her feet, still staring at her burning hands. When she looked up, she got a whole new shock. For a moment she thought her vision had been damaged by the explosion. Everything looked different. Nearly all the color was gone from the environment around her. She spotted Laemellon who she found she could see quite clearly. At first this didn't seem odd, but then she remembered that before she hadn't been able to see her where she had landed in the tree. Claire was looking _through_ the leaves. Thankfully the vanaloke seemed to be alive and attempting to untangle herself from the tree branches she was stuck in. Laemellon looked different however. Her features were distinguishable and stood out from the environment around her, but her shape was dark like a shadow.

Then Claire turned to look at Morlyg. Twenty feet away, the creature was rising from where it had fallen. But the being before Claire now looked very different. In contrast to Laemellon, Morlyg was a shining shape like a ghost. She also didn't look like an uruk anymore. Claire beheld a tall slender yet unnaturally twisted female form clad in a shining garb. Her face was misshapen, like an unholy combination of a reptile and a human, with a shallow nose, pointed teeth, and large slitted eyes. Long matted dark hair fell around the face and Claire thought she saw long pointed ears jutting backwards beneath her disheveled black locks. A long serpentine tail was trailing behind her. She was a demon from the depths of hell if ever there was one.

Suddenly the truth struck Claire.

"This is _the sight_ ," she thought. "This is the realm jumper _sight_ that reveals the true nature of things. Are my eyes glowing right now? How do I turn it off?"

No sooner had she wondered this, everything changed back. The world looked the way it had always been, green foliage with a bright blue sky. Yet looking down at her hands, she saw that they were still burning with the same bright blue flame.

She looked back at Morlyg and gasped. The demon was still in uruk form, but its sword arm was completely gone. Whatever that explosion had been, it had blown the creature's arm clean off and left a smouldering stump. Then to Claire's horror, it began to grow back, but something else was happening at the same time. Like fire spreading across paper, Morlyg was changing, transforming into something else. And this new something else had both arms.

When the transformation was complete, Claire beheld something very similar to what she had seen using the sight, but not as hideous. This was a tall slender woman, her face symmetrical and beautiful surrounded by locks of dark hair. She wore a belt which Claire noticed had also been worn by Morlyg's earlier form. From it hung a pouch on one side, and the other side bore a strange object in a type of holster. She wore a striking red dress that was ankle length and slitted along the sides. The sleeves were short and cut in a strange fashion. Underneath the dress, she wore matching leggings that continued down to cover her shoes. The outfit didn't look like anything from Middle-earth. _Star Trek_ would have been a more accurate context for an outfit like that.

Morlyg reached for the strange object in the holster on her belt and held it in her newly grown sword hand. The object looked like a handle and before Claire could process what it was, suddenly a bright red curved blade sprang from one end. Claire couldn't help feeling that this object was more technological than magical and she could have sworn that she saw Morlyg push a button to extend the blade.

Claire kept her eyes on the demon as she reached down and retrieved her own sword. As she gripped the blade in her burning right hand, the flame engulfing her hand transferred to the blade and lept up the metal shaft. Her sword was now a flaming blue sword that glowed white hot at its core.

So was this it? Was this her superpower? Yes her hands were burning, but if they weren't hot enough to burn her, what good could they do to an enemy? And this whole thing didn't really help her to fight better. Wouldn't she be in the same situation she was before? Did the flaming sword do anything useful?

"That's an impressive trick," Morlyg said, her voice was now very feminine yet still sinister and deep. Claire could tell she was trying to be cocky, but was doing this to cover up how flustered she was. Getting your arm blown off does that to a person.

"Looks like we can have a decent fight after all," Morlyg added twirling her blade in her new sword hand.

"Ok what do I do? What do I do?" Claire thought frantically.

 _You have all you need to do what you have been called to._

The voice was comforting and empowering. Claire drew in a deep breath and mimicked the demon's sword twirl. Her blade sang as the flames whipped around the metal shaft. She planted her left foot firmly in front of her and gripped her sword with both hands. The blade burned even brighter with the blue fire as she held it in front of her. A sudden wave of confidence came over her that she couldn't explain. She felt light, like she was ready to spring and the sensation nearly made her giddy.

"Bring it on," she said, the confidence in her own voice surprising her.

Morlyg wasted no time. She closed the gap between them and her curved blade came down slicing the air. Claire caught it with her own sword with an immensely satisfying _clang._ Morlyg swung again coming from the side, and Claire was shocked at how easy it had been to parry her blow. Morlyg swung high and low, yet still Claire blocked her. Claire felt like her whole body was as light as a feather yet strong as steel. It took almost no effort to get her muscles working. Assuming the correct sword position came as easily as one would raise one's own hand. The expression on her face as she continued to actually hold her own in a sword fight was one of bemused shock to go with the constant thought of _How the heck am I doing this!?_ that echoed in her mind.

The two opponents came apart, Claire positively jumping with adrenaline and Morlyg somewhat winded. The demon in woman form brushed her black hair out of her face, an expression of utter frustration twisting her features. She gripped her strange sword in both hands and pressed what looked like another button. Amazingly the blade split in two, now becoming two swords, which she spun swiftly at her sides.

"Oh its on now," thought Claire. She was still exhilarated by the the previous encounter, but doubt began to seep into her mind once more. Elrain had trained her to defend against one blade, but not two.

Morlyg flew at her again, this time pulling no punches. The two opponents crossed blades again and the demon twisted Claire's blade in her left hand so that she caught the hilt of the young girl's sword. With the Claire's sword held back, Morlyg brought down her other blade on top of the girl's head. Instinctively, Claire threw up a hand to shield her face, knowing full well that her hand would be sliced in half. In the nano second that she decided to do this, she figured it would be better to stop the blade with the bones in her hand rather than the bones in her head. She shut her eyes fearfully and winced in anticipation of the pain.

There was a bizarre scrapping _thunk,_ but no searing sensation of dismemberment. Claire opened her eyes and saw that she had caught Morlyg's other blade in her flaming hand, but her hand was unscathed. The razor sharp edge of the demon's sword was pressing into her palm, but the flaming appendage gave no indication of damage.

"I'm indestructible!" Claire thought wide eyed as she stared at what she was able to do.

Then Morlyg tried a different approach. She pulled her blade from the girl's hand, swung her body around, and elbowed Claire square in the face. The girl went down like a tree, her head thunking in the soft wet grass. Claire's head spun and she wondered if her nose and teeth were broken. She rolled in the grass just in time to miss both curved blades as they came down on her. Staggering to her feet, the world spun a bit before coming into focus. Apparently only her hands were indestructible. The taste of blood in her mouth made it very clear that her face wasn't.

It was then that Morlyg noticed that the orcs, along with the halflings, were nowhere to be seen. Looking around and realizing that her targets had escaped, she gave a harsh growl and began to make a run for the woods. Claire stepped in front of her, blood running from her nose but still able to hold her head up.

"You will have to get through me first," she declared seeing what Morlyg was trying to do. The demon was really _really_ angry now. She rushed at Claire and the two exchanged a barrage of slashes and parries.

Claire was so focused on just staying upright after her blow to the head, that she failed to notice what Morlyg was doing. The demon was pushing her backwards towards the edge of the cliff, her blows coming one after the other in an overwhelming assault. Claire was just beginning to get a hold on the situation when she felt her foot meet air instead of ground. Morlyg grinned and spun around, her foot making contact with the black and red leather covering Claire's chest. Claire's sword flew from her hand as the wind was knocked out of her. She fell backward over the cliff and down into the mist. Falling head over heals, combined with the lingering effects of getting elbowed in the face, caused the young girl to mercifully lose consciousness.


	19. The Aftermath

**The Aftermath**

Elrain's prediction had been right. Guarding the northern border was terribly boring that day. Not a peep was heard. It seemed that the orcs had gotten wise and the remaining rabble had retreated back into Moria. The day had mainly consisted of meetings with the other elves in the Lothlorien guard and discussing ways to strengthen the borders from further attack. Elrain was good at this kind of thing, but it was, in her opinion, very _very_ boring.

In the middle of one such meeting on that first day, one of the elf captains called Nolme had interrupted. Asking only for Elrain, the elf led her out of the pavilion she had been meeting in and up to another tent nearby the outpost where they were stationed. He seemed troubled.

"Someone has arrived and is asking for you," he said to her as they both stopped in front of the closed tent. "They requested to speak to you and only you, Elrain." Nolme looked like he had just seen a ghost. He nervously wiped sweat from his brow.

"Who is it?" Elrain asked concern rising in her voice.

Nolme stuttered, something that Elrain had never seen any elf do. "I - I cannot rightly say. You must go in and speak to...that person yourself."

Elrain pulled the tent flap back and beheld a tall figure standing in the center of the tent. The person was alone and their back was turned so that Elrain couldn't see their face. The person was clad in a dark blue cloak with the hood up.

"Who are you?" Elrain asked.

The figured turned. Seeing their face, Elrain's jaw dropped. Yet her look of wonder and astonishment soon turned to frustration. Her shoulders slumped and she let out long breath.

"Oh no. Please tell me this isn't happening," she moaned.

"Oh yes," the figure said. "I'm afraid it is."

* * *

Laemellon was still recovering from the shock of the past few moments. She had failed to kill Morlyg. In fact the whole encounter had flagged up something that the vanaloki were not really aware of. As soon as the demon had grabbed her by the neck, she felt all strength drain from her body. Morlyg had gloated over her saying that a creation can't harm its creator and that she was too small to be worth her time. Laemellon had been rendered nearly paralyzed by the demon's touch.

But the greatest shock had come later. As Laemellon attempted to untangle herself from the tree she had been thrown into, she had looked down to see Morlyg and Claeo standing across from each other. The young girl's hands were flaming and the demon was poised with her red curved blade. Of course here was the scene that was depicted in that painting back on the Island. It was unmistakeable save for the fact that the vanaloke, which was supposed to be her, was not a part of the composition before her eyes. She had tried to take all the glory for herself and now she had no part in it at all.

As she struggled to free herself from the canopy, the demon and the fire wielding girl had fought. Laemellon had looked up just in time to see Morlyg elbow her in the face and by the time the vanaloke had freed herself from the tree, they were at the cliff's edge. She was already getting ready to spring to Claeo's side when the girl went over the falls. Without hesitation, Laemellon folded her wings and dove down into the mist. If there was one thing vanaloki were good at, it was calculating a trajectory through the air. It was an essential skill in the midst of aerial combat. Yet even with that skill, she nearly flew into the falling girl as she dived after her, overestimating her own accuracy and speed.

Gripping Claeo by the shoulders, she spread her wings and attempted to glide downward for the rest of the fall. Stopping Claeo's fall short or shooting straight up would surely snap the girl's neck and she strained with every muscle as she tried to slow their descent. As she leveled with the ground, Laemellon's balance was terribly off. She had been trained to carry heavy objects in flight, but that had been by holding onto rope. Gripping the wet girl by the shoulders was difficult and it didn't help that she was unconscious.

They had a rough landing on a grassy patch at the foot of the falls. Claeo flopped on the grass, her arms landing at odd angles. The vanaloke rolled the human over onto her back but wasn't sure what to do. She seemed to be breathing, but was otherwise unresponsive. After shaking her and calling her name several times, she finally resorted to a more crude method of waking her.

"Wake up!" she yelled smacking the girl across the face.

Claeo's eyes popped open and she gasped in a lungful of air. She sat straight up, her hands held shakily in front of her and her eyes wide with shock.

"It's alright," Laemellon quickly said. "Morlyg is gone."

"I - I fell over a waterfall," the young girl stammered, her hands still twitching.

"Yes," Laemellon said as calmly as she could. The girl was obviously terribly shaken. "I caught you. You don't seem to be injured save the blow to your face."

"Did you - did you see me," Claeo stammered. "M - my hands. They were on fire. And I…I was in a sword fight!"

Laemellon gave her a puzzled look. "Uh yes. Yes you were. Is that surprising?"

"Surprising," the girl said incredulously. "I am the worst sword fighter ever. Back in my world I couldn't even defend myself with a stick. But that...that up there was legit sword fighting. How…"

She trailed off staring at her hands again. Her hair was wet and sticking up in all different directions and she still had a blood stain running down from her nose. Frankly she looked awful and the crazy-eyed look that she had as she stared at her palms didn't help either.

* * *

Claire couldn't help wonder if she was going crazy. Sitting in the damp grass and staring at her hands, her brain replayed the last few minutes. It was all too incredible to be real, yet the more she thought about it, the more real it felt. She had fought a demon and not been horribly and immediately killed. Well… that had almost happened, but then…

What _had_ happened? She tried to think back to what she had done that had somehow activated her Realm Jumper powers. She had been on the verge of being killed and then she had asked God to save her. Her plea had been half reflex and half sincere. Most people when they are at the brink of death will call out to some higher power to save them. She just happened to also be familiar with a higher power back in her own world. As she mused on this, the words of Elrain came to mind.

"When the time comes that you have to face Morlyg and you sincerely ask Eru for help, He won't abandon you," the elf had said. Was that what had happened? Had God, or Eru as He was called in this world, actually been the One to help her?

 _Are you surprised that such a thing could be true?_

Claire lept to her feet in surprise. The voice that she had heard in her mind before was now so clear that she thought that someone might be behind her. She spun around as Laemellon, still sitting on the grass, stared up at her bewildered.

"Claeo, are you sure you're alright?"

Claire had been having a very weird day, and at the risk of being terribly clichéd, she said the first thing that came to her mind.

"Is that you God?" she said looking up at the sky.

 _Of course it is. You know that already._

She stared off into space wide eyed. "But how...why are you speaking to me?"

 _I've spoken to lots of people in the past who I have called to My purpose._

Laemellon stood up now and was trying to understand what Claire was doing. She took the girl by the shoulders and said, "Claeo...who are you speaking to?"

"I think...I think it's Eru," Claire said slowly.

Laemellon cocked an eyebrow. "Eru is speaking to you. And why would He do that?"

Claire thought back to Rivendell and how Elrain had insisted that the voice telling her to relay information about Frodo's wound was from Eru. Elrain had thought it natural that the Creator of the worlds would speak to her, but Claire had disregarded the notion as crazy. Now she wasn't so sure. In fact the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

"Because I am a Realm Jumper," she said at last to Laemellon. The vanaloke's brow furrowed in confusion.

"A Realm Jumper? What is that?"

"I'll explain later," Claire said breaking away from the vanaloke's grasp. She wanted to learn more about this voice that was speaking to her.

Staring eastward, she said in her mind, "Is this how it works...being a Realm Jumper? That you talk to me like this?"

 _I've always talked to you like this._

"But I've never heard your voice in my world. I mean people talk about stuff like that, but I thought that was only the way it used to be."

 _I do not change,_ the voice said softly. _Some choose not to listen until they cannot hear any longer. And even then, My voice is never silenced._

Then Claire remembered the question that had pressed upon her mind since she first set foot in Middle-earth. Though her experiences had shown her evidence for both sides, she still wanted clarity. If this truly was Eru, basically God, speaking to her, certainly He would know.

"Is this all real?" she asked.

 _You know it's real._

Claire stood silent for a few moments. Looking eastward through the trees the land was green and lush, but there was something else on the horizon. She couldn't explain it exactly, but "anticipation of things to come" would be a close description to what she felt.

She turned to address Laemellon, but was surprised to see the vanaloke returning from somewhere. Laemellon held Claire's sword in her hands.

"I retrieved this from the cliff. It fell from your hand before you went over the falls. It's a wonder Morlyg didn't take it."

Laemellon bowed before Claire and the young girl took the blade from the vanaloke.

"You fought with Morlyg and still live," Laemellon said. "You are truly a powerful warrior."

Claire sheathed her sword. Staring at her hands again, the truth began to sink in.

"The fire," she said slowly. "It's not mine. It's Eru's. That's where it came from. When I asked Him for help, He gave it to me. I am not powerful. I just wield the fire that's all. I - I am just…"

The word that came to her mind was like the final puzzle piece falling into place. That satisfying completion of all that had come before suddenly making sense. The prophecy, her doubts, this dream. It was still unbelieveable, but now this one thing she knew to be more real than anything she had ever known before.

"A vessel," she said at last. "A vessel of fire."

* * *

As Nolme waited outside the tent, the two individuals inside spoke together in harsh whispers. Soon one of them exited the canvas structure. Nolme and this person left and a few moments later the other person, a figure clad in a dark blue cloak, exited the tent. Saddling a horse from the nearby stable, this person rode out of Lothlorien and out into surrounding wood.


	20. The Plan

**The Plan**

The sun was beginning to set as Claire saw Laemellon returning. After they had somewhat recovered from the incidents of that day, the vanaloke had flown back to where their horses were and had walked them slowly down the path to the foot of the falls. This had taken longer than Claire cared for, but she didn't let that delay waste any of their time. While waiting she had consulted the voice of Eru. When she had asked Him the simple question of "What do we do now?" He had said simply _Consider what you have learned. You are more than qualified to discern where you should go next. Go in My strength and you will not fail._

A rather cryptic response she thought. When Laemellon returned with the horses, Claire had asked if she would be willing to fly high above, get the lay of the land, and to see if she could spot the Orc party and/or Morlyg. Laemellon complied. She seemed to be more cooperative and agreeable now after the confrontation with Morlyg. While the vanaloke scouted ahead, Claire consulted _The Lord of the Rings._ By the time Laemellon returned, the young girl had the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind.

"I have much to report," Laemellon said as she landed next to Claire's horse. Mounting her own beast of burden, the vanaloke lamented, "I am afraid I didn't see Morlyg at all. She is doing a fine job of keeping herself hidden. I did spot the orcs and they seem to be heading back to Isengard. The halflings are still with them. I also spotted three persons not far from here in pursuit of them."

"That's Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli," Claire said smiling warmly. "'The three hunters'."

"I also saw men on horseback. Quite a few of them actually moving here and there throughout the lands to the west of the river."

"The Rohirrim," Claire said looking down at the book in her hands. "They will play their part if Morlyg doesn't interfere."

She weighed the text in her hands. Claire had had a long time to think on it and she had peace that her next statement wouldn't be a bad decision.

"I need to tell you what this is," she said handing the book to Laemellon. The vanaloke took it in her slender green hands and examined it gingerly. "This book," Claire continued, "Is how I know the future."

Laemellon glanced at Claire, her purple eyes widening.

"It's the story of the halflings," Claire said. "It's the history of the War of the Ring told from their perspective and right now..." She reached over and turned a few pages as Laemellon held the book. Claire at last reached page 411. "Right now we are here."

"'The Riders of Rohan'," Laemellon said reading the chapter title.

"Yes. Using this book, we can know exactly what will happen. Where people will be, the battles that will be fought, who will win, and what earth shattering things will happen along the way." Claire paused to give the vanaloke a moment to process it all. "Morlyg also has this text. That is how she knew where to attack the hobbits."

"And by reading this book," Laemellon mused. "She can know where they will be in the future and kill them?"

"Yes, but…" Claire held up a pointer finger and smiled. "Morlyg is on the same playing field as we are. She is bound to the physical world even though she is a fallen Maia. Now, we have already been told that she will only go after the hobbits. For now they are in two separate groups." Claire reached into her pack and pulled out her map of Middle-earth. She pointed to the falls and said, "We are here. Frodo and Sam have already entered Emyn Muil over here to the east. That place is a labyrinth of stone. No one except for a certain individual in particular will be able to find them in there. It would be a lost cause for her to go after them. At least from my limited knowledge that would seem to be the case."

"No, Morlyg will go for an easier target I think," Claire said pointing at Isengard on the map. "You see, she needed to manipulate the orcs to get her hands on the hobbits. That's why she disguised herself as their leader. That probably means that she can't take on the whole group by herself and now that her cover has been blown, they probably won't fall for that again. They have been given strict instructions to take the hobbits to Isengard. Funny thing is, the hobbits _will_ make their way there, but not in the way the orcs think. Let's see."

Claire took the book from Laemellon and flipped to the timeline in the back. "On the 28th, which is day after tomorrow, the Rohirrim that you saw will overtake the orcs and kill them at the edge of Fangorn forest. In the midst of the fight Merry and Pippin will escape and then the next day, meet Treebeard the ent. The fight will be chaotic so I doubt that Morlyg would attempt to get at them during that time and she most certainly can't enter Fangorn without possibly getting stomped on by some Ents or other things that are in that wood."

She looked over at Laemellon and saw her glassy-eyed expression. This was a lot of information to take in for someone who wasn't familiar with half the people and places Claire was talking about.

"Basically," the young girl said congenially. "The next time that Merry and Pippin will be absolutely alone without any orcs or ents nearby to protect them will be here, the morning of March the 4th. I re-read this part while you were scouting. There is a brief time period on the 4th of March when I think Morlyg will attempt to kill them again."

"How can you be sure exactly when and where she will strike? A lot can happen in the span of a few hours," Laemellon said.

Claire rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "If I had this book and I was trying to pinpoint Merry and Pippin's exact location, I would wait for them at the arch that is over the one gate into Isengard. The floods will force them there and they won't have any avenue of escape."

"We had better get started then," Laemellon said with a sigh. "That gives us about a week to cover the distance. But before we go, I want to give you something."

The vanaloke reached up and removed her shoulder armor that was made from her old claws. They were attached by leather straps and as she removed them, Claire saw that they were actually made from two pieces each with a hinge in between.

"Take these," Laemellon said handing Claire her pauldrons. The girl took them hesitantly as the vanaloke said, "It is a tradition amongst my people for companions to share armor. You have no armor to give me, but I feel that you need these more than I do."

"Thank you," Claire said. She wasn't sure how she felt about wearing her friend's old claws on her shoulders, but she figured that they were better than nothing. Surprisingly they fit perfectly and the vanaloke smiled in approval as Claire finished adjusting them. Laemellon was slowly becoming more friendly toward her which was surprising. Something about almost being killed by Morlyg had drastically changed her attitude, though the vanaloke didn't seem to be willing to admit it verbally as of yet.

Claire returned the book and the map to her pack and checked to make sure it was securely tied to her saddle. "I say we ride until nightfall. Then tomorrow we start bright and early. We shouldn't have to push the horses too hard to cover the distance."

Laemellon nodded and the two travelers prodded their horses down the path heading northwest. The sun was setting in a blaze of red light. For the first time since Claire had set foot in Middle-earth, she felt absolutely confident of her situation. Her doubt that this was a dream was slowly fading away. She was beginning to believe more and more that all of this was real.

Her first confrontation with Morlyg had shown that she was without a doubt the Venë Faeur. It had also shown her that she was capable of far more than she guessed. She wasn't exactly sure how her powers worked, but she would have at least 5 days to figure it out before she would have to cross blades with the demon again. And on top of that, the voice of Eru was like a calming salve on her constantly running mind.

He didn't speak all the time, but when she asked Him a question there was always an answer. This whole thing with "God" talking in her head seemed a bit hokey, but she had to admit...it wasn't half bad. She wished that God in her own world would be this vocal.

And now here they were, off to continue the adventure with an objective laid out before them that rested well in Claire's mind. She couldn't explain it, but for the first time that she could remember, a plan of her own devising actually seemed like it would work.

 _I called you to this,_ Eru said to her as they trotted along. _I will be faithful to carry it on to completion. Abide in Me and you will not go astray._

* * *

The next morning, Claire woke up early with the sunrise. She peeked out from beneath her cloak that she was using as a blanket and saw the remnants of the fire they had made the previous night. Laemellon was still sleeping. She was curled up like a cat a few feet away, her wings spread over her giving her the appearance of a giant green leaf with a small dragon's head poking out from the side.

Claire sat up slowly so she wouldn't wake her. The orange tinges of sunrise were just beginning to peek through the trees and the air was cool and fresh. Claire thought that this morning was the nicest morning she had ever seen while traveling in Middle-earth.

She looked down at her hands and wondered if she could make use of this time before Laemellon woke to figure out how her powers worked. Staring at her palms she considered how to do this based on what she had done previously.

"If it be Your will," she whispered. "Um...let my hands ignite."

There was a soft _ppfff_ as her hands suddenly burned blue.

"Well that was easy," she thought.

 _When it is within My will, you will always have what you ask for._

Claire arched an eyebrow. "Well, good morning," she said in her head.

 _Good morning,_ the Voice said in her mind.

She stared closer at her burning hands. It seemed that the source of the flames were the palms her hands which glowed the brightest of all. She flexed her fingers on her right hand and then made a fist. The flame still burned constant. She flapped her hands around rather ridiculously. The fire whipped through the air like you would expect, but no movement lessened its intensity. She began experimenting with different objects, holding them in her flaming hands to see if there was any effect. Her hands didn't burn anything. Even a stick of wood that she gripped as tight as she could wouldn't burn.

She then moved on to the "indestructible-ness" of her hands. She found a sharp twig and poked at her palm. She could feel it, but there was no pain. She pressed the stick harder into her burning blue skin. Same result. After a few more tests, she was jabbing the stick into her palm. The tip of the stick eventually broke off.

Out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw Laemellon stir. The young girl gave a cheery "Good morning" to the vanaloke. Laemellon folded her wings back and drew herself up into a seated position. She blinked a few times and then noticed Claire's continued examination of her burning hands.

There was one more thing to try. Claire drew out her sword and the flames leapt from her hands to her blade. Once again she had the sensation of being light and untethered. Apparently it was the sword that helped her to move quicker and fight better. She grinned like a child at Christmas. This was the coolest thing that had ever happened to her.

"Figured things out yet," Laemellon asked stretching her arms in front of her.

"Flames off," Claire said outloud. The fire vanished as quickly as if someone had flipped a switch. Now she just held her sword in her ordinary hands. "I think so," she said to Laemellon. "This is a lot easier than I thought. Apparently if it is Eru's will, I can use my powers whenever."

Claire sheathed her sword, but then went back to concentrating on her hands. Laemellon got up and began to break camp while the young girl continued to experiment. By simply thinking it, Claire found that she could turn the flames on and off again, either two hands at the same time or one at a time. Shortly before they saddled their horses, she whipped out her sword and asked Laemellon to feel the burning blade. Carefully, the vanaloke drew her hand close until she pressed her palm against the flat metal shaft. She felt nothing but cold steel.

"So apparently my fire powers don't have anything to do with fire," Claire remarked as they mounted their horses.

"My people have always seen blue fire as a symbol of the power of Eru," Laemellon said.

"I suppose that fits," Claire said, though deep down she was a bit disappointed that she couldn't actually burn anything. However, she knew when to be thankful for what you have and she let the matter rest.


	21. The Supposed Spy

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **3** Theoden retreats to Helm's Deep. Battle of the Hornberg begins.

Ents complete the destruction of Isengard.

 **_ . _**

 **The Supposed Spy**

The next several days were spent traveling across the plains of Rohan. Claire and Laemellon headed northwest in a straight line only turning aside for hills or forest that lay in their way. Crossing the Entwash, they made their way into the West Emnet and up into the Gap of Rohan. Claire remarked at how it was strange to backtrack like this, as she and Elrain had passed through this country a few months before. Indeed, as they drew near to Isengard, she began to think on how long she had been in Middle-earth. She had arrived on Bilbo's birthday in September and now it was the beginning of March. That was nearly half a year and the realization of this blew her away.

As dusk fell on March 3rd, they continued to ride through the night until they at last approached the Wizard's Vale. They passed several outposts like the one Claire and Elrain had encountered, but they were all empty. The land was eerily quiet, like it had been completely abandoned. A mist had settled over everything as they approached the gate. Isengard only had one gate, a design flaw in Claire's opinion considering what the ents had done. The thick wall of rock that circled the city was at least fifty feet thick and almost as high. Through the broken doors beneath the archway, they could see the long tunnel that led to the other side inside the city. The arch above the gate was more decorative than functional; it was not a part of the wall, but rose up above it with an empty space beneath.

"We should leave the horses outside of the city," Claire said.

"Why is that? Laemellon asked. Claire could see her inquisitive look in the dim grey of the fog. By her estimation it was nearly 4 in the morning and in a few hours the sun would be rising.

"Because if my calculations are right, this city is going to be flooded soon. It would be hard to find somewhere to put them where we can be sure they won't drown."

They led their horses around the circle of the city for about a fourth of a mile and then tied them up loosely to a tree so that they could graze while they waited.

Making their way back and entering the long tunnel, Claire reviewed events for Laemellon's benefit as well as her own.

"Ok, so sometime this morning in the next few hours, the Ents are going to flood the city. A few hours ago at about midnight, they broke the dam filling up the city with puddles, but the lake farther up in the city will soon start to overflow and fill up everything until the water rises as high as the outer wall. I'm not sure exactly what happens, but I do know that this tunnel caves in so that it has no roof. Also this tunnel is the only way that the water will be able to drain from Isengard so we definitely don't need to get caught in here when that happens."

Laemellon looked nervously at the stones above them and asked, "That arch at the gate...is that the arch the halflings will go to?"

"Yes," Claire said. "You can tell from looking at it that it is pretty much the only thing that won't be overwhelmed by the water. That is where I think Morlyg will be waiting for them."

"How can you be sure? What if she strikes before?"

They were moving out of the tunnel now. The fog was dense inside the city and water gathered around their ankles as they strode through the countless puddles covering the area. It was quiet and the sloshing sounds their feet made seemed louder than was comfortable.

"I'm not sure how," Claire said, "but I have peace that this is what Eru has told me to plan on."

That seemed good enough for Laemellon. The two travelers at last found themselves standing in a flooded courtyard on the other side of the gate. The wall around Isengard had several structures built into it and on top of it. Standing on the other side looking back, it looked more like a tight row of houses and buildings instead of solid stone. Looking down into Isengard, the ground was flat and featureless, save a few structures here and there that stood like ghostly silhouettes in the mist. The land was filled with puddles and a smell of wet decay hung in the air. All around was the destruction that the ents had made. Piles of stone and crumbling buildings where a common sight.

Claire glanced around. "Merry and Pippin should be here somewhere."

Claire suggested they split up, with her searching the area around the gate, and Laemellon scouting the interior of the city from above. No sooner had Laemellon flown away, Claire spotted a light in one of the houses set into the stone wall. It was just a door or two to the west of the tunnel and she wondered why she hadn't noticed it before.

Sloshing through the puddles and up to the door, she peered intently at the warm light glowing from the adjacent window. She knocked softly and then again firmly. When no answer came, she carefully opened the door. Inside a single candle was set upon a table on the far end of the room amidst various pieces of furniture.

The whole thing was extremely odd and Claire had the feeling that this was some sort of trap. She slowly drew her sword from its sheath and whispered, "Merry. Pippin. Are you guys in here?"

But no answer came. Indeed, if an answer had come Claire wouldn't have heard it, for not a moment later she took a blow to the head from someone behind her and everything went black.

* * *

As she began to regain consciousness, Claire heard voices speaking to one another near her.

"...just a girl. I can't believe you struck her like that."

"She is in league with Saruman, Merry. Why else would she have given me back to the orcs? We can't trust her."

"I think she's waking up, Pip."

Claire found that she was sitting on the floor, propped up against a wall. As her vision cleared she saw the faces of two young hobbits staring down at her. Merry was leaning down looking at her closely with the lone candle in his hand. He seemed to be examining something on her face. Pippin stood beside him holding Claire's sword, the flat of the blade resting casually on his shoulder. The weapon looked silly and huge in his small hands.

Claire put a hand to the back of her head. She could already feel the lump that would soon be forming there and she winced in pain. The whole situation was entirely ridiculous and for a moment, she forgot she was in Middle-earth.

"What the...did you guys knock me out?"

"Peregrin did," Merry replied. "He seems to think you are a spy for Saruman, and if what he has told me is true, then I don't blame him. Also, where did you get that horrible bruise?"

He was of course referring to the bruise that Claire had received a few days prior from Morlyg's elbow hitting her face. Laemellon had said it was bad and that the black and blue mark across the bridge of her nose made her look ridiculous. Apparently it hadn't gone away yet.

"I got it saving his life," Claire retorted continuing to rub the back of her head.

Peregrin huffed and tightened his grip on her sword. "Really? Putting a sack over my head and delivering me up to a band of bloodthirsty orcs is what you call 'saving'?"

"Look...it's hard to explain but…" Claire stopped, realizing a crucial detail. "How long was I out?" she demanded.

The two hobbits looked at each other. Finally Merry said, "An hour or two perhaps."

"Is this the guard house?"

They nodded.

Claire began to get to her feet, but Pippin whipped her sword around and stuck it at her threateningly. She stood slowly and the point of the sword followed her keenly.

"Oh no you don't," Pippin said. "You aren't going anywhere until Treebeard gets back. Then you can go up into Orthanc and talk to your friends Saruman and that Wormtongue fellow."

Claire was beside herself. Was she really being threatened by Peregrin Took? And with her own sword?

"Pippin, I'm not a spy," she said putting her hands up. "I'm sorry about the thing with the orcs but it had to be done. We have to get out of here. This place is going to be flooded any minute now."

Neither hobbit moved. "Sure it is," Peregrin said sarcastically. "You and your friend wormtongue are both terrible liars."

"I'm not lying!" Claire implored. "Look, I…" She stopped, realizing that no argument was going to phase these two. They had been to hell and back with the orc party and had been hanging out with talking tree people for the past few days. No simple explanation or excuse was going to convince them. The clock was ticking down and Claire was becoming a bit frantic.

"I...I'm a seer," she said quickly. "I know the future and stuff. Look, I gave you back to the orcs because if you weren't captured, then you would never have gone to Fangorn. And if you had never gone to Fangorn then the ents wouldn't have come here. And if they hadn't come here then the huorns wouldn't have gone to Helm's Deep and all of your friends would be dead. I had no choice but to give you back to the orcs. The real reason I'm here is to protect you guys. That orc that tried to take your head off wasn't an orc. It's this crazy demon who is caught up in the mix and I've been sent to stop her. Any minute now this whole city is going to flood and I'm fairly sure that she is going to be waiting for you when you try to get out of here, so please, _please_...give me back my sword and just trust me."

The two hobbits stared at Claire expressionless. At last the younger hobbit spoke up. "You may be telling the truth, but we have seen too many strange things to believe such a story so easily. You will get this sword back when Treebeard returns."

As Peregrin spoke Merry had made his way to the window and was looking out into the misty street outside. Claire glanced at him and then back at the other hobbit. "Peregrin," she said sternly. "Treebeard won't come back before the lake overflows. He's probably too busy helping the other ents divert more water into Isengard right now."

Switching tactics, Claire said condescendingly, "You don't even know how to properly use that sword anyway. Give it to me." She stretched out a hand to Pippin.

The hobbit frowned and gripped the hilt tighter, yet a twinge of doubt crossed his face. However, before he could respond they both turned to look at Merry as he suddenly yelled, "The flood! She's right! It's here!"

Merry jumped back from the window and the candle fell from his hand as the whole building shook violently. The shut wooden door that led outside gave a horrible wooden _creeaaakkk_ before bursting at its hinges. Water poured in at an overwhelming rate and within a few seconds they were all standing in two feet of water that was rising alarmingly fast. In the dark, Claire strained to see the two hobbits sloshing through the water toward the stairs at the back of the room. Claire sloshed after them and followed after Pippin who still held on to her sword. As she began to ascend the stair, the room was nearly full to the ceiling.

The stair was narrow and slippery and the young girl soon found herself frantically clawing her way up the wet stone. She came to a part of the passage that was blocked. There was a narrow gap between the wall and the fallen stone and she looked up just in time to see Pippin enter it, dragging her sword behind him. She breathed a word of thanks to Eru as she was able to squeeze through as well. The rising water was ever at her heels.

Coming out at last on the second floor, she ran through a door and saw that they were now on top of the wall around Isengard. There was an open space, like a sort of upper courtyard, and from there a stone walkway led up to the arch over the gate. The roar of the water was nearly deafening now and the two hobbits and the girl nearly lost their footing as the stones beneath their feet shook. In the grey misty light of the early morning, Claire saw that they were making for the arch where she was certain Morlyg was waiting for them.

"Stop!" she yelled over the roar of the flood. Water was just beginning to spill over the edge and fill the floor they stood on. The hobbits stopped and looked back. Pippin brandished her sword, yet he seemed less resolute now. They were all soaked to the bone and she could tell that both Merry and Pippin were shaken from nearly being drowned.

"She's waiting for you at the arch!" Claire yelled. "You must give me back my sword."

All at once Claire as both justified and terrified. With a splash the demon appeared behind the hobbits. She had jumped from somewhere, but in the chaos of water and destruction it was hard to tell where. The two hobbits turned and saw her standing over them. She was in the female form Claire had seen earlier, yet her eyes could not hide her true nature. They were blood red with slitted pupils, which had not been the case days earlier when she had first encountered Claire.

"Hello again," she hissed looking down at Peregrin. She held her red sword in her hands and it glowed hot like a metal poker left in the fire. It sizzled as the spray of water swirled around them. Morlyg grinned at the halflings showing rows of pointed teeth beneath her otherwise fair lips.

What happened next, Claire could only assume was an instinctive reaction on Peregrin's part. In humans there are two natural responses to danger: fight or flight. This apparently is true in hobbits as well. Peregrin, who was still awkwardly gripping Claire's sword in both hands and was now face to face with a creature that was obviously a threat, chose the fight option. He swung upward, the weight of the sword throwing him off balance. Hobbits have incredibly good aim and, though his blow was not skilled in any manner of swordsmanship, he didn't miss. The tip of the sword grazed Morlyg's jaw line, slicing upward and across her face. It wasn't a deep cut, but enough to leave a noticeable mark.

The demon staggered back in shock, her free hand going to her face. Her hideous eyes were wide and she gawked at Peregrin. She let out a sort of screeching sound and her face began to twist with rage.

"How dare you strike me!" she screamed and swung her blade down on the hobbit.

Claire had already rushed forward when Morlyg had staggered back. Igniting her hands, she caught the blade inches from Pippin's upturned face. Without a word, the hobbit placed her sword into her other free hand and he and Merry made a run for the arch. Morlyg turned to go after them, but Claire gripped the demon's sword in her burning hand and jerked the creature backwards. Claire was surprised at her own strength as the demon stumbled into the rising water. Brandishing her own sword, the young girl positioned herself between Morlyg and the arch. Her left hand balled into a fiery fist and her flaming sword in her right, she planted her feet as well as she could in the now ankle deep water.

Morlyg rose from the water in a flurry of red hot metal and bared teeth. Her sword met Claire's and the force of it pushed Claire back a step. They were at it now, swords flashing as the water began to move swiftly around them. The flood was not letting up and the moan of the buildings giving way to the power of the water was incredible.

The demon caught Claire's blade in hers and leaned in close. "That halfling's life is forfeit," she hissed. "I will not stop until I've peeled the flesh from his bones."

Claire was a bit confused, if not horrified, by Morlyg's threat. Was she this furious because of a cut across her face? Could demons like her be so vain?

"Claeo!" she heard one of the hobbits yell.

Claire looked up and saw the two hobbits standing on top of the arch. To her surprise, Laemellon was standing with them which was a relief. Peregrin was pointing northward, his eyes wide with terror. There came a roar and a crash from the direction he was pointing and both opponents turned to see what it was. An entire structure, a wooden house braced with metal and masonry, was floating towards their position on the wall. It had the full force of the torrent of water behind it and in a few moments it would crash into the structure they stood upon.

For one horrible moment Claire realized _where_ they were. They were standing directly above the tunnel; the tunnel that all the water was rushing through it. The tunnel that would have no roof on it when Theoden arrived the next day.

The tunnel that was about to be blocked by a house rushing their direction.

Claire didn't take any more time to consider what might happen. She threw Morlyg's blade off of hers and made a break for the arch. Moments later the stones beneath her feet jumped as the house pounded into the wall. She fell to her knees in the water and dared look back. A tall section of the structure had broken off and was standing on end as it was pushed along by the water. It was cutting through the tunnel, taking off the roof like a knife cutting through a piece of cloth. There was a horrible scraping sound as stone was rent in two by the force of water and metal. Morlyg was running after Claire, the structure cutting through the floor right at her heels. The ceiling of nearly all the wall was caving in. The only place that would survive the torrent was the arch. The young girl scrambled, willing her feet to move. She could see the hobbits and Laemellon urging her on with concerned expressions.

As Claire reached the structure, she threw her sword up onto the landing and gripped the stone to climb up. Merry extended a small hand, but he was too high up. Laemellon grabbed Merry's arm and added length to his reach. Claire gripped at Merry's hand, at last firmly getting it in her grasp.

Then the floor gave way. She felt pain shoot up her arm as the full weight of her and her wet clothes pulled on her shoulder. She prayed that it wouldn't dislocate. Almost instinctively, she ignited her other hand and gripped the stone to take weight off of her other arm. It helped a little, but alas, her flaming hands didn't give her super strength. Merry was gritting his teeth and pulling as hard as he could. Pippin was laying down flat on the stone with his arms outstretched, trying to help pull her up as well. Suddenly there was another violent shake and Claire lost her grip on the wall. The disturbance threw them all off balance and Merry's hand slipped from Claire's.

Engulfed by the rushing torrent, Claire's eyes burned and her nose filled with water. The speed at which she was pulled was the most alarming. She had always been good at holding her breath, but at this point her lungs felt like they would soon burst. Yet before that could happen, she suddenly hit something and she gripped at it with what strength she had left. The water fell away around her and she gulped in air. Coughing and wheezing, she found that she was in a death grip with the upper trunk of a tree. Water was rushing beneath her and daring to turn her head, she saw that she had been washed out of Isengard and into the surrounding woods. Water was still gushing out of the tunnel, its roof completely taken off. When her stinging eyes cleared a bit, she could see the two hobbits huddled atop the arch. But where was Laemellon? And for that matter, where was Morlyg?

Her ears popped as the water drained from them and she thought she heard someone yelling, but it wasn't coming from the hobbits. She willed her eyes to shift to _the sight_. In the shadowy realm that she viewed before her, she saw a dark shape moving above the treetops.

"Down here!" she cried weakly before coughing again. Laemellon glided down and put her arms under Claire's shoulders, gripping her around the chest. At a word from Laemellon, the young girl let go of the tree. The vanaloke struggled to gain any height and after straining to stay aloft, they glided rather chaotically away from the rushing torrent.

They both fell into a thicket in the midst of the trees and Claire never thought she would be so happy to find herself on solid ground. The vanaloke gripped Claire's face in her hands and examined her.

"Are you alright?" she said pulling back Claire's eyelids. The young girl raised a soggy hand and batted her away.

"I think... _cough..._ I think so. How...how am I still alive?"

"I haven't the faintest idea," Laemellon said astonished. "No one could have survived that. Yet you seem to have passed through those waters unscathed."

"Yeah, well let's hope Morlyg didn't fair as well as me." She sat up, her head swimming slightly. She leaned forward and promptly vomited up water. The torrent had been utterly foul, and Claire tried not to think about all the awful things she might have swallowed.

Laemellon put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "After you went over, the halflings nearly fell off the arch as well. I caught the youngest one by the arm before he was able to join you."

"That's Pippin. Stupid hobbit wouldn't give me my sword."

"Well, he is in your debt now I suppose. I also left your sword with them. I will go back and retrieve it once you are sure you are alright."

"I'm fine," Claire said raising her head. "Make sure you tell them not to tell anyone about us. I've already told them too much." She peered around the woods. "Where did Morlyg go?"

"She was washed away as you were, though it was far more violent for her. I saw her fall into the tunnel as the roof gave way and then that section of building came down on top of her. Though I would imagine it takes more to kill her than that."

"That was so strange," Claire said. "When Pippin slashed her across the face like that...she was royally miffed. Like she was furious that he had dared to strike her."

Laemellon's brow furrowed. "My people have always said that she was extremely vain. Obsessed with beauty and symmetry."

"I suppose that makes sense. Pippin messed up her pretty face and now she has a vendetta against him."

"But doesn't she want to kill them anyway," Laemellon asked.

"I don't know," Claire said shaking her head regretfully. She ran her fingers through her wet hair and looked back towards the gate. "I haven't figured out what her whole goal is yet. It doesn't make any sense. But one thing is for sure though: she's is dead set on killing Peregrin."

Then Claire had an idea. She shifted her eyes to _the sight_ and looked intently around the surrounding wood. Laemellon stared at her in wonder. The vanaloke wasn't yet completely used to this strange ability of Claire's. Looking around Claire could see the shadowy figures of Merry and Pippin on top of the arch. Nearby Laemellon sat, her form shadowed as well. Then Claire looked due south. She rose to her feet shaky at first, but then she took a few steps.

"I see her," she said pointing into the woods ahead. "She's moving southeast."

Laemellon stood at her side, her mouth agape. "That's incredible," she said.

"But why is she moving away from Merry and Pippin? Why not stay here?"

"Perhaps because her chance to get at them has passed?" Laemellon offered. "Or maybe she is moving on to her next target."

"Frodo and Sam," Claire breathed. "But she said that she was after Pippin, so why would she…"

Claire began to process the timeline in her mind. Gandalf and Pippin would be leaving Isengard in the next day or two and heading for Minas Tirith. Morlyg was on foot and they would be on horseback. Leaving earlier than them, she could get there before them and lay a trap. Peregrin would be alone several times in Minas Tirith, not to mention caught up in the middle of the siege. Was this her next target? Based on what the demon had said, this seemed to be the case

"We need to follow her," Claire said at last.

"The horses are this way," Laemellon said pointing towards the edge of the wall where they had left them. "You were very wise not to take them into the city."

Claire chuckled as they began to make their way through the woods.

"One of the few times I hate being right."

* * *

As the water continued to rush out of the gateway, Merry and Pippin huddled on top of the great arch. They were cold and wet and for all intensive purposes trapped until the water receded. They both sat in silence still trying to process what had just happened.

Peregrin glanced down at Claeo's sword that sat on the cold stone with them and began to think. Who was this strange woman who had shown up at such odd times? And what kind of strange magical power would make one's hands burn like that? Was she a wizard like Gandalf?

The youngest hobbit of the fellowship was becoming weighed down with guilt. If he had given her the sword, would that have saved them all this trouble? Her returning him to the orcs had been terrible and he had wanted her to be a spy of Saruman to vindicate his anger. But that didn't seem to be the case. Claeo had protected them from that...that woman. If she could be called a woman. Whatever she was, it was evil to the core, Peregrin knew that much. He felt a twinge of pride thinking of how he had actually dealt her a blow. Yet, the memory of Claeo slipping from Merry's grip and vanishing into the rushing water flooded his memory again. He had been so shocked he had nearly fallen forward off of the arch. The strange dragon woman had caught him by the arm. Her grip was like a metal clamp, but it had saved his life. She had flown off without a word leaving the two hobbits and the sword alone and wet above the rushing water.

Peregrin's thinking was suddenly broken however by the very person he had just been remembering. The dragon woman suddenly appeared, standing next to them. She picked up the sword and after examining it, turned her gaze upon the two hobbits.

"Say nothing of Claeo and I to anyone," she said firmly. "When you tell your tale to your companions, leave us out of the telling."

Before the hobbits could say a word, the creature flapped her great wings and flew off into the woods. Peregrin had started to ask, "Is Claeo alive? Did you find her?" but it was too late. The dragon woman was gone.


	22. The Race to Minas Tirith

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **5** Theoden reaches Isengard at noon. Parley with Saruman in Orthanc. Winged Nazgul passes over the camp at Dol Baran. Gandalf sets out with Peregrin for Minas Tirith.

 **_ . _**

 **The Race to Minas Tirith**

As Laemellon returned with her sword, Claire was sure of what they had to do. It wouldn't be easy, but surviving a raging torrent and escaping drowning somehow filled her with adrenaline. The Sun was now rising and the horses stamped their hooves in anticipation.

Claire sheathed her sword and looked back south. She could still see the shining speck in the distance that was Morlyg. The demon had made good time somehow.

"Today," Claire said her eyes burning with anticipation as well as bright blue light, "we give chase. We are not going to let her surprise us like that again. We ride until we catch her."

"Don't you think you should get some rest," Laemellon asked. "You did almost just drown?"

Claire grinned excitedly. "I've never felt more energized in my life Laemellon. Come on. Let's ride!"

She spurred her horse forward and the vanaloke did the same.

Soon horses were flying across hill and briar and onto the main road. The sun was shining bright as they sped across the Gap of Rohan. Ever did Claire keep her eyes fixed upon the shining form of Morlyg and ever did they ride on. After hours of riding, their pursuit turned southeast along the mountain range that would lead them all the way to Minas Tirith.

As the sun began to set, Laemellon insisted they rest. Claire agreed only because they had caught up to Morlyg enough that a pause in their journey wouldn't put too much space between them. After sleeping for a few hours the two were off again. They rode through the early morning and the next day until nightfall. After resting for the second time, they were back on the road to Gondor, the shimmer of Morlyg still visible in the distance. Claire was amazed that even with their stops they were able to keep in pace with the demon.

At last they made camp with only a day's journey left to Minas Tirith. Their horses were quite winded, but Claire was sure that they would be able to rest for a very long time once they had entered the city.

"Don't you think it's odd," Laemellon said as they sat around the fire that night. "Morlyg has been on foot this whole time, yet we haven't caught up to her at all."

"Well we have made a few stops along the way," Claire said munching on some of the lembas bread they still had left. "I'm surprised we've been able to keep up with her at all if you ask me."

"It seems too perfect," the vanaloke said doubtfully. "Something about this chase doesn't feel right."

"Well Eru is with us. Why wouldn't things work out in our favor? Besides we know where she is going."

"Based on her words only. How do we know she's not lying?"

"You didn't see the look on her face when Peregrin struck her," Claire retorted. "She was really mad. And the things she said afterwards...yeah, I'm pretty sure she's going to Minas Tirith."

Laemellon stared intently into the campfire in deep thought. "Claeo, I know that you are the one leading this quest," she said at last. "But I have a bad feeling about this course of action."

Claire finished her piece of lembas. After traveling with Laemellon, she had seen how much the vanaloke doubted Claire's dependence on Eru. Laemellon didn't seem to be on good terms with Him for some reason. This fact tainted her opinion of her companion somewhat. If Claire was following Eru and believed in Him, wouldn't her opinions and intuition be better than Laemellon's?

In reality, Claire wanted to go to Minas Tirith. It was her favorite city in all of Middle-earth and the thought of seeing the Tower of Ecthelion with her own eyes filled her with excitement. Perhaps this also tainted her opinion of the situation as well. It was the perfect storm of convenient desire. Morlyg had said she would pursue Peregrin and he would soon be in Minas Tirith. It was just like Claire would have wanted it to be. And her last plan had worked right? They had rescued the hobbits from Morlyg at Isengard. Why wouldn't the same thing happen again?

She hadn't heard Eru speak in her mind for a while and the fleeting thought passed through her head that she might need to consult Him on this trip to make sure they were going in the right direction. But there wasn't really a need for that was there? Morlyg, in an uncontrollable fit of rage had basically told them where she was going. And on top of that, they were keeping up with her just fine. It was obvious that they were on the right path.

Yes. Claire was sure of it. Everything was falling into place.

* * *

When Claire opened her eyes the next morning, she had a strange sensation. Something wasn't right, yet she couldn't put her finger on it. Getting up from her place on the ground next to the campfire, she looked around the trees that lay around them. The mountains loomed on their right, the plains on their left. Yet as she stared ahead and willed her eyes to use the sight, she gasped at what saw. Or rather what she didn't see.

Morlyg was nowhere to be seen. Not a hint of the fallen Maia could be glimpsed. Claire woke Laemellon and convinced her to lift the young girl to a high crag on the mountain side. It was a strain on the vanaloke's wings, but she agreed. After a very unflattering landing, the two found themselves very high up. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon as Claire strained to spot the elusive demon.

But it was useless. Morlyg was nowhere to be seen. Claire surmised that she must already be in the city. She had found in the past few days that the sight let her see through organic matter, but not stone. Thus Morlyg must be within the stony walls of Minas Tirith. Laemellon doubted this, but conceded that it might be the case.

The two returned to their horses and began their final day of travel to the City of Kings. As the sun began to set, they at last crested a hill at the end of the mountain range. There at the foot of Mount Mindolluin lay Minas Tirith. The spire of the white tower shone bright orange with the setting sun. Claire's breath was taken away at the sight of such an enormous and beautiful architectural marvel. This was indeed a highlight of the trip.

They made camp that night outside the city wall and in the morning they made their way around the perimeter and to the gate. Claire was well aware that security was tight in the city. Especially now since they were at war and spies were aplenty. As she continued to ride around the vast stone circle, Laemellon flew up into the city. Cloaking herself, she made her way into the guard room at the city gate. There, invisible amongst the soldiers, she was able to find out the passwords asked to all who sought entrance and what sort of information they would need.

Returning to Claire and relaying the information, Laemellon gave up her horse and instead began to walked alongside. She still remained cloaked however for Claire said that the people might not receive her as well as the elves had and it was probably best if the vanaloke remained hidden for the time being. Laemellon agreed. In fact she preferred to remain unseen.

As they walked up the road leading to the gate, Claire sensed that something was bothering Laemellon. Claire had discovered that by using the sight she could see the vanaloke when she was invisible to everyone else. When her companion was silent, the young girl had snuck a peek at her face. Laemellon looked troubled indeed.

"What's wrong with you?" Claire asked.

The vanaloke's brow was furrowed and her deep purple eyes were downcast.

"It still doesn't feel right," she muttered. "What about the other halflings? While we are in Minas Tirith, who will be looking after them?"

"As long as Morlyg is in Minas Tirith we don't have to worry about Frodo and Sam," Claire said with a hint of frustration. Her companion had not let up on this issue and it was starting to annoy her. "Look, if you are so worried about them, why don't we split up?"

Laemellon looked up at her in surprise. "Split up?"

"Yeah," Claire said. "I'll go to Minas Tirith and you go fly to Ithilien and see if Frodo and Sam are ok."

The concept was purely to please Laemellon since Claire was confident that Morlyg was in Minas Tirith. She was also feeling more confident in herself. She had stood her ground at the gate of Isengard. Had it not been for the flood, she might have bested the demon and finished the job. And then her foe had fled like a wounded animal and taken refuge in a fortress where she could hide. Claire was quite sure that she could handle things on her own from here if Laemellon would prefer to ease her mind.

Yet instead of looking pleased at the idea, the vanaloke looked hurt, almost insulted.

"You would go on without me? But I was sent to help you."

"And you will be," Claire said. "Checking on Frodo and Sam will be helping. Besides, it shouldn't take you long to fly there and you probably won't have trouble finding them with your tracking abilities. They will be captured by Ithilien rangers, but that is supposed to happen. Faramir, their leader, will eventually let them go and then they will be back on the path to Mordor."

"Which direction is Ithilien?"

Claire reached into her saddle bag. "Here," she said handing the vanaloke a folded piece of paper. "Take my map. I won't be needing it in the city."

Laemellon slowly took the map from Claire. She gave her another doubtful look and said, "If this is what you wish, then I will do it."

Claire smiled and nodded her head. The vanaloke dipped her head as well. Laemellon turned and with a jump flew up into the air and began to fly northward. Claire watched her for a few moments. She was relieved that she could now focus on entering the city without Laemellon going on and on about how she had a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Reaching the gate, Claire gave the appropriate passwords. The door wardens were surprised that someone so young would know such information. Claire thought about dropping Gandalf's name, but he had not yet entered the city so it seemed pointless.

The guards approved her entry and before Claire had time to process how awesome it was, the gates swung open and she rode into Minas Tirith. It was the morning of the 7th and the sun was just starting to warm the air as she entered. The courtyard behind the gate was busy with all manner of people: soldiers, servants, and citizens. Claire raised her eyes and gazed up at the tall outshoot of stone that loomed over the front of the city like a great ship's bough. She beamed up at it. The whole thing was just too gorgeous to fathom.

"Don't wake up," she thought to herself.


	23. The Servant to the Steward

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **7** Frodo taken by Faramir at Henneth Annun. Aragorn comes to Dunharrow at nightfall.

 **8** Aragorn takes the 'Paths of the Dead' at daybreak; he reaches Erech at midnight.

Frodo leaves Henneth Annun.

 **9** Gandalf reaches MInas Tirith. Faramir leaves Henneth Annun. Aragorn sets out from Erech and comes to Calembel. At dusk Frodo reaches the Morgul-road. Theoden comes to Dunharrow. Darkness begins to flow out of Mordor.

 **_ . _**

 **The Servant to the Steward**

Leaving the horses at the public stable, Claire began to walk up into the city. She had to stop herself from running because she was so excited to just be there. Minas Tirith was a unique structure indeed. The entire city consisted of seven levels which were all connected by large ramps on either side. The ramps alternated so that you would have to walk the entire layout just to get to the top, but Claire didn't mind this at all. The sun was rising high now and the white stone of the city was shining bright in the warm morning air. Each level had a wall of its own, with various buildings and houses built into it. Towers and other structures were dotted along the circumferences culminating in one large structure at the very top. The highest level was called the Citadel. It included living quarters, stables, and meeting places for the officials of the city. In the center of the Citadel was a larger structure that included the throne room and beside that stood the Tower of Ecthelion that shone brightest of all. Claire wasn't permitted to go up into the Citadel and thus her mind started to strategize how she might make that happen.

Before Claire knew it, she had walked all the way to the third level of the city on the south side. She had passed through crowded markets, busy thoroughfares, and people clogged passages. Everywhere people went to and fro on various business and Claire wondered at the truly medieval nature of their culture. The people in Minas Tirith were human, yet every once in awhile Claire heard a few of them speak elvish. Yet the most surprising factor was how Claire felt amongst them. She didn't get any strange looks like she had in Lothlorien or Rivendell. She was among fellow humans and, aside from looking a bit weathered and carrying a sword, she fit right in. There were a lot of soldiers in the city and she wondered if they thought she was a sword bearer for someone.

In short, Claire was completely enthralled by the wonder that was Minas Tirith. This was evident in what happened shortly after turning a corner on her way to the fourth level ramp. She was looking back up at the immense height of the city and beginning to wonder where she would be staying for the night, when she bumped into someone. The unique thing about this individual however was that they were carrying a bucket and, being just slightly taller than Claire and losing their grip due to the impact, Claire soon found an entire bucket of water spilled on her and the bucket itself landing over her head. The weight of it made her fall backwards and she gave a muffled _oof_ as she hit the ground. The whole occurrence was so wholly ridiculous, that if she hadn't been sputtering and flailing her arms, Claire might had laughed.

"Oh my word! Oh I beg your pardon!" the bearer of the bucket cried as Claire landed on the stony pavement. A pair of hands gripped at the wooden container and lifted it off of Claire's head. The person was a young woman, probably in her late teens or early twenties. She was dressed in some sort of uniform of black and silver with a collar lined with fur. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun and she wore a silver head band that had silver chains hanging from it that fell behind her ears and brushed against the fur around her neck. She had a round kind face with high cheekbones and wide brown eyes. She stared at Claire in horror at what had just happened.

"I am so sorry! Oh dear, you are soaked!"

Claire stood up and shook the water off of her hands. She was indeed soaked, though thankfully she knew that her pack which was slung on her back was waterproof to a certain extent. She was quite beside herself on what to do next, but she didn't have to wait long.

"Please, come inside," the young woman said gesturing to the door of a nearby house. "Please come inside and dry yourself and I'll make you some tea. I'm so terribly sorry."

The young woman practically pulled Claire inside and after taking her pack from her and showing her a chair, she brought her a dry blanket before scurrying off to make tea. The whole encounter was so quick that Claire was a bit dazed. She was in what appeared to be a living room and across from her was an empty fireplace. The decor was simple if not non-existent. She was sitting on a plush bench that she assumed was supposed to be a sofa of some sort. To her right was a narrow stairway leading to a second level of the house. Leaning to the side, she peered through the doorway the woman had gone through. She could see a kitchen set into the back wall of the house. It had a window that opened up on a beautiful view of the southern sky. Apparently this house was set into the wall of the third level. The place was small yet cozy and soon the young woman brought Claire a cup of tea.

"I am so sorry about all of this," the woman said handing Claire the tea. Claire stuck her hand out from the mass of blankets she was wrapped in and took the beverage. It smelled sweet and she began to sip it slowly.

The woman sighed as she sipped her own cup of tea and then rested her face in the palm of her hand. "I need to be more careful where I am going at this time of morning especially carrying a bucket of water like that. My brother used to go on about how clumsy I am." She stopped, sipped her tea again, and then said, "My name is Losswen, Daughter of Erethor."

"I'm Claeo," Claire said trying to sound as cheerful as she could. She could tell that Losswen was having one of those days.

"Pleased to meet you," Losswen said. "Please let me apologize again for dumping that bucket on you."

Claire smiled and pulled the blanket tighter around her damp clothes. "It's...it's ok. We all make mistakes. Thank you for the tea. It's delicious."

"I'm glad you like it. It's been a long time since I've made tea for anyone."

" _Losswen_...Is that elvish?"

"Yes it is," Losswen said perking up a bit.

"It's a beautiful name," Claire remarked sipping her tea.

"Thank you. My family once lived further north and my father always loved the snow. So when my mother bore me, they named me Losswen, _snow maiden_." She looked down at her cup for a moment and then sighed. "Those were happier times I suppose, before the shadow began to grow."

She looked up from her cup as if snapped out of a trance. "Well," she huffed. "I shouldn't burden you with my problems." She stood and walked back to the kitchen.

"Oh that's fine," Claire said standing. She shuffled in her blanket to the door of the kitchen, her cup still in her hand. An idea was forming in her mind, but she felt that she needed to figure out a few things first before it could come to fruition. This girl, if Claire's assumption of her uniform was correct, might be a useful friend. And if there was one thing Claire was good at, it was making new friends. Keeping them however had always been a struggle.

"I suppose I should tell you more about myself," Claire said as Losswen busied herself in the kitchen. "I am a visitor in the city. I've just come from a long journey from Rohan."

Losswen stopped what she was doing and looked back at Claire with an excited expression.

"Rohan! We heard word that there was a great battle there. Do you know what came of it?"

"Yes. The Rohirrim were able to hold back the army of Saruman. I wasn't there, but I know a lot about it."

"The sword you carry," Losswen said eyeing the sheathed blade hanging from Claire's belt. "Who does it belong to?"

"Um, it's mine."

Losswen gawked. "Yours? Don't be ridiculous!"

"Oh it is," Claire smiled. "I think you'll find that I'm a very unique person in these parts. Do you know of Gandalf?"

The woman didn't seem to recognize the name.

"Mithrandir perhaps," Claire offered.

"Oh yes!" Losswen said, her eyes growing wide. "The wizard! He was here a long while back to visit the city's library. I have heard of him."

"Well, I'm a friend of his," Claire said leaning against the door frame trying to look as cool and casual as possible. "And I'm here on super secret important business for him. He's due to get here day after tomorrow." She sipped her tea and paused for emphasis. "And, he's bringing someone important with him."

"Who?" Losswen asked.

"Have you heard of the Perriannath?"

"The little people of legend? I heard a tale told about them when I was a child."

"Well they are quite real, and one of them is travelings here with Mithrandir as we speak."

"Really," she said, a silly grin spreading across her face. "Are you playing me for a fool?"

"Oh no. I'm not joking. And as I said, this perrian, or hobbit as he likes to be called, is a very important person. So important, that I've been sent ahead to protect him. You know, make sure the city is safe before his arrival."

Losswen, totally caught up in what Claire was saying, took up her cup of tea again and sat down at a nearby table. Claire joined her and continued.

"You see Losswen, someone of such high standing as this perian is needs protection. I'm his...bodyguard I suppose you might say. I know, I know...it's odd that someone like me would be a bodyguard, but that was Mithrandir's thinking. No one would suspect that a young girl would be this perrian's protection, yet here I am." She grinned and leaned back in her chair, sipping her tea.

"This perrian," Losswen said leaning forward. "He must be very important indeed. A - a prince perhaps?"

"Yes," Claire beamed. "Ernil i perriannath." As the words exited her mouth, she suddenly realized what she had done. She set her cup down and put a hand over her mouth. Not that it did any good, the damage was done. She had always wondered where the people of Minas Tirith got the idea that Peregrin was a prince. Was she planting that idea right now? She prayed that she wasn't causing some kind of horrible paradox.

"Ernil i perriannath," Losswen repeated back. "You also speak elvish then?"

"Um...no," Claire said slowly trying to chose her words carefully. "I have just heard that phrase before. Anyway, I am looking for lodging. Do you know of any guest houses in the city where I can stay?"

"They are most likely full," Losswen said. "Many of those who live on the Pelennor have taken refuge in the city. I'm afraid lodging may be hard to come by."

There was a pause in the conversation as the two females sat silently with their now empty tea cups. At last Claire asked, "Losswen, where do you work?"

"Work?" Losswen seemed caught off guard.

"Yes. Your outfit looks like a uniform of some kind. Black and silver...those are the colors worn by servants of the Steward aren't they?"

"They are," she said. "I work in the Citadel kitchen. I don't actually serve the Steward himself, but I do take meals up to the throne room at times."

"Ah," said Claire, rubbing her chin thoughtfully. "Do they need any extra help?"

Losswen tilted her head thoughtfully and blinked. "I'm not sure what you are asking."

Claire leaned forward and cradled her empty cup in her hands.

"You see Losswen," she began. "I believe fate has brought me to you. In two days Mithrandir will arrive and the perrian I mentioned is going to swear his service to Gondor. I need to keep an eye on him, being his bodyguard and all, so I need to find a way to get up to the Citadel. I don't have to be in the main chamber, just within earshot. My mission is a bit secretive so just asking the Steward if I can hang out there is out of the question. However, if I could get a job in the kitchen with your help, that would be splendid for my mission."

Losswen stared thoughtfully at Claire. The young woman looked less confused than Claire had anticipated.

"You know," Losswen said at last. "Ever since my brother was sent off to the garrison in the south, this house has seemed very empty. My father died just over a year ago and left it to us. It's barely manageable for one person, so I wouldn't mind talking on some help. But I don't know if I could afford…"

"Oh I can pay you," Claire said jumping up from her chair. She discarded the blanket and retrieved the pouch that Elrain had given her. Depositing a few coins into the palm of her hand, she held them out to Losswen. Claire wasn't sure how much it equaled, yet from the look in eyes of the woman sitting across from her, she assumed it was a lot.

"I'd be happy to pay you," Claire said. "And if you get me a job in the Citadel so I can be close to the perian, I can pay you even more."

Losswen looked as if she might cry. She laid a hand on her chest pensively. "Oh Claeo," she said at last. "You are right. Fate has sent you to me. Yesterday I received word from my brother that he would not be returning this month and I was dismayed at the prospect of keeping up this house all on my own." She took the money from Claire's open palm and smiled. "I will get you a job. And you are more than welcome to stay. This alone will be enough to make the much needed repairs to the roof."

Claire laughed and lifted her glass. "To the roof then."

Losswen lifted her tea cup and clinked it against Claire's

"To the roof."

* * *

Claire spent the rest of that day helping Losswen around the house. There was a lot of cleaning to be done and with Claire's help, they were able to knock out chores that usually took the young woman the greater part of a day. At the end of the day they had a simple supper and then went to bed. The room that Claire stayed in was a bedroom up on the second floor. From her window she could see the southern plains stretching out from the circular walls of Minas Tirith. In the far east, a dark line of mountains loomed. She had forgotten how close Mordor was.

The next day, the eighth of March, Losswen and Claire left bright and early to make their way up to the Citadel kitchen. After walking up to the fifth level, Losswen showed Claire something that would be invaluable. There was a back passageway, a sort of steep stair that ran from the fifth level to the seventh. It was of course guarded, but Losswen had authority to use it. This was strictly used by servants and Claire was quite relieved that they wouldn't have to walk all the way to the top by the normal route. However, the stairway was in a narrow steep tunnel and Claire's elation was soon dissipated by the breathless claustrophobia that she became acquainted with.

At last they made it to the top and Claire found that the passage came out directly into the kitchen area. Losswen mentioned that it was a way to get supplies up to the seventh level quickly and she was often sent to fetch things via this route. Losswen then introduced Claire to the head of the kitchen, a round woman with a flustered expression who seemed to always be mad at something. She was happy to have a pair of extra hands and before Claire knew it, she was given a black and silver uniform and put to work. Being the rookie on the workforce, she was set to washing and errand running non-stop and before the young girl had time to wonder how long the work day was in Minas Tirith, the horn sounded for the closing of the city gate.

That night Claire had trouble sleeping. She had imagined that Minas Tirith would be a wonderful place like Rivendell where she could explore and interact with characters she could only dream of meeting. Yet that day had been just the opposite. Her hands ached and her head throbbed ever so slightly. She thought about Laemellon and began to miss her vanaloke companion. Claire wondered if she was having fun going to Ithilien for no reason.

The next day was a lot of the same hustle and bustle save for what happened in the early morning when Losswen and Claire first arrived at the Citadel kitchen. Claire was well aware that Pippin and Gandalf would be arriving that morning and she was excited when she was told that she would be permitted to take trays of food up to the main throne room.

The throne room in the Citadel was a long pillared rectangular hall that was about 50 feet long. Tall windows were set into the walls facing north and south, and the black marble contrasted with the white stone made for a very modern looking interior. The door that Claire came through with her tray was actually behind and a little to the right of the throne dais. She had been told that she would not be permitted to actually enter the room; a servant that attended to the Steward and his guests would take the tray from Claire. This however didn't stop her from looking in as she handed off the refreshments.

Pippin and Gandalf were speaking to Denethor. She couldn't see Denethor's face, but his voice made him sound very old. It was good to get a glimpse of Peregrin. Yesterday she had begun to wonder if she was wasting her time working in a kitchen, but now at least now she felt justified for being here. Peregrin would be constantly surrounded by people including Gandalf for all of this day so there was no need to keep a constant eye on him right now. Later when the siege began the hobbit would be left unprotected and she would likely be able to slip away from her duties and keep an eye on him.

The rest of the day passed quickly. As Losswen and Claire made their way back to the house, they heard a great commotion as the gates began to close. Apparently a lot of important people had just come in and the city was buzzing with excitement. She looked west and saw the red sunset and remembered that Peregrin was probably in the onlooking crowd somewhere. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of him, but to no avail.

Her second full day of working in the Citadel had passed without event and Claire was feeling pretty good about herself. She still wondered what Laemellon was doing and when she would be returning from her solo venture. That night Claire slept deep, exhausted from two days of hard labor and the excitement of the city ringing in her mind.


	24. The Dawnless Day

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **10** The Dawnless Day. The Muster of Rohan: the Rohirrim ride from Harrowdale. Faramir rescued by Gandalf outside the gates of the City. Aragorn crosses Ringlo. An army from the Morannon takes Cair Andros and passes into Anorien. Frodo passes the Cross Roads and sees the Morgul-host set forth.

 **_ . _**

 **The Dawnless Day**

The next day was the 10th. This would be the day that Faramir would return to Minas Tirith with news of Frodo and Sam. On this dark grey morning Claire and Losswen climbed the long stair tunnel just like they had done for the past two days. As noon approached, the weather didn't improve. It looked like the constant clouds that hung over Mordor were slowly making their way westward as they spread over the land like an ominous shroud. There was much talk amongst the kitchen staff of a coming battle and Claire couldn't help but wonder how _safe_ it was to be in Minas Tirith right now.

At noon, word came from the Citadel: Faramir had returned to the City with great tidings and would soon arrive to speak with his father. Claire was chosen to do the chore she had done the day before and soon she was making her way to the throne room with a tray of refreshments.

Claire came through the back entrance and handed the tray to the other servant she had seen the day before. As he stepped away she had a full view of the throne room. Pippin was there standing next to Denethor's chair on the side closest to Claire. Gandalf however was nowhere to be seen. This was odd, but Claire chalked it up to a bad memory of events. It was difficult to remember the time of day in a tale when you are so engrossed in a story.

She was about to turn and walk back to the kitchen when the two large doors at the far eastern end of the throne room opened and what she saw made her stop dead in her tracks.

There are moments in one's existence where life as we know it seems to come to a screeching halt. The phone call saying that a loved one has passed away. The jarring impact of a car wreck. The moment when you suddenly realize that from this point forward life will never be the same. The moment when your presupposed vision of future events is irrevocably shattered.

Claire had never experienced a death in the family or a car wreck, but when Faramir and his group of Ithilien rangers entered the throne room, she knew that all her assumptions were dashed to pieces. Yavanna had said that she could use the time travel option if things were messed up beyond repair and Claire's mind began to spin as she calculated the risk.

Behind Faramir, being shuffled along quite forcibly and wearing an old sack over his head, was a hobbit. The sack was pulled off by one of the rangers, revealing a dazed and beaten down Frodo Baggins. His hands were tied in front of him and he staggered like someone who had been beaten. As the group made their way down the length of the chamber, Claire heard Pippin gasp. And in the midst of all of this, Gandalf was nowhere to be seen.

Claire stood frozen in the doorway observing the scene before her. This was a disaster! Yet even as she began to wonder how it could be fixed, things escalated into into utter chaos.

* * *

Peregrin had been looking forward to having lunch with Beregond again, but the Steward had made him stay. Dressed in his new uniform of black and silver, the hobbit looked very prince-like, but he certainly didn't feel like it. Gandalf had disappeared a few hours earlier and he wished that the wizard would come back and join them. Denethor was a harsh man whose personality wouldn't have gotten him many friends in the Shire, that was certain.

The young hobbit had seen a lot of strange things in the past 6 months. Black riders, elf lords, a balrog, a girl with flaming hands, wizards, ents, and a working palantir. It was safe to say that his tolerance for the strange and unbelievable was growing. However, the scene that was playing out before him was a surprise to say the least.

The man who was apparently Faramir, the son of Denethor and Boromir's brother, approached the Steward's chair and stood about 10 paces from them. He looked a lot like his brother Boromir, yet something was off. Something familiar in a bad way that Pippin couldn't place. He also recognized Frodo and almost rushed forward, but before he could do anything Faramir spoke.

"My father," the man said with a wide grin. "I have returned from Ithilien bearing a mighty gift. Something that I think will turn the tide of this war."

Denethor frowned doubtfully as the rangers behind Faramir pushed Frodo to his knees. Pippin stifled a cry as he beheld his cousin's face closer now. The poor hobbit looked like hell, a bruise was forming on his temple and his eyes wide and darting. His lips were quivering but he didn't speak.

"This halfling," Faramir said pointing to Frodo, "has committed a great crime. He was attempting to smuggle the weapon of the enemy into Mordor. He is a traitor to Gondor if not Middle-earth itself."

"That's not true!" Peregrin blurted out, unable to contain himself any longer. "Frodo is trying to destroy it."

Faramir chuckled. "A halfling destroy the weapon of the enemy? Father, clearly you can see how ridiculous that sounds."

Pippin turned to plead with Denethor, but the old man raised a hand and gave him a cold look. Pippin backed away from the Steward's chair appalled that this was even happening. Had they come this far and gone through so much just to be thwarted by a bunch of big folk who thought they knew better?

Faramir turned to Frodo who was now staring at the floor unwilling to look at the man.

"Give me the Ring halfling and your life will be spared."

Frodo's eyes grew wide and he began to tremble. At last he answered and his voice was low and gravely.

"No," he said through clenched teeth.

Faramir turned to stand in front of the kneeling hobbit, his back to the Steward and Pippin. He removed the glove from his right hand.

"I'll ask again. Give me the Ring halfling or face a swift death."

Frodo at last looked up at Faramir, his blue eyes wide and crazed. The hobbit was obviously mad and he pulled at the ropes around his wrists.

"Never!" he screamed. "You traitor! I'll never give it to you. It's mine! It's mine!"

Frodo sprang at Faramir, but the ranger was too quick for him. Faramir struck him. Pippin thought that it was a slap at first, but the long gash that was left across Frodo's neck and face could have only come from some kind of hidden blade in the man's hand. It wasn't a deep cut; only a shallow scratch, but the effects of the wound were like nothing Pippin had ever seen. Frodo staggered back, hit his head on the floor, and he began to twitch and struggle.

Pippin rushed forward to help his cousin. Mercifully no one stopped him. He lifted Frodo's head off of the floor and said, "It's me, Frodo! It's Pippin!" But the hobbit still writhed like a madman. At last he stopped, his eyelids drooped and his limbs relaxed. The scratch had turned black with dark veins stretching out from it. The blade, Peregrin realized, had been poisoned.

Tears welled in Peregrin's eyes as he cradled Frodo's head in his arms. "He - he's dead," was all he could say, yet the words coming from his own mouth sounded like they were far away. Pippin looked up at Faramir's face in anguish and sorrow, but suddenly his anger and grief were mixed with another emotion: fear.

Those eyes. Peregrin had seen them before. The orc who tried to kill him at Amon Hen. The woman who he had slashed across the face at the gate of Isengard. The one who that girl Claeo had said was trying to kill them.

They were the same eyes.

* * *

This was it. There was no fixing anything now. Frodo was dead.

If adrenaline hadn't already been pumping through Claire, she might have passed out. She had never witnessed anyone getting murdered before and the visual would stay with her for the rest of her life. It wasn't dramatic or emotional. Frodo's death had been terrible, ugly, and quick. Peregrin mourning his cousin didn't help the scene either.

As Faramir stood with his back to her, she caught the glint of a metallic object hanging from his belt alongside his sword. It was a crown-like object with two chains that hung down from rings of metal. It was Laemellon's silver headpiece, the crown-like apparatus Claire had noticed when she first met the vanaloke. Claire knew as soon as she saw it that Laemellon was either captured or dead and that the later was more than likely true. The reality came crashing in upon her and she leaned on the wall for support. What had she done? She had sent the vanaloke to her death and all because she had been annoyed at Laemellon's concern. Despair began to overcome Claire, but something within her held it at bay. She prayed for resolve and it came to her. Claire's back straightened and she began to calculate what must be done. There was no choice now. She would have to use the time travel realm spell.

But in order to do this, she had to have her sword and a companion. She mentally kicked herself for leaving her sword back in Losswen's house. She would have to go down there and get it, but who would she take with her? That was four levels down and it would be a long walk for someone to go on without an explanation. She cried out to the Voice in her head. Yet even as she did this, events began to unfold that she took to be the response.

Faramir bent down and took the Ring from around Frodo's neck. Pippin didn't stop him. The younger hobbit seemed to be frozen with fear as well as grief. The man unclasped the chain and slipped the golden object into his bare palm and held it before Denethor. The old man leaned forward trembling.

"A gift for you my father. Together we shall end this war once and for all," Faramir said. As he took a step or two towards the Steward, Faramir turned his head and looked directly at Claire. The young girl gasped and her blood froze. She knew those eyes all too well.

Suddenly the reality of the past few days made sense and Claire understood at last that she had been played. Morlyg had never intended to kill Peregrin. That had been a clever lie to make her think that the demon was going to Minas Tirith. Other things also made sense: how Morlyg had put herself in a position to get swiped at by Peregrin, her threat on his life, staying just far enough ahead of them to be followed, and then disappearing at the last moment. It all made sense; Morlyg wasn't just some lackey of the enemy. She was cunning and from day one she had sized Claire up and decided to play the long con.

And now here she was, disguised as Faramir and offering the Ring to the one individual who would be the worst person to give it to. And on top of that, she had slain Laemellon. That look in Faramir's eyes had been unmistakeable. Morlyg was gloating. She wanted Claire to see this. She wanted to wait to kill Frodo in front of her as an overly dramatic _screw you_ to the pathetic and inexperienced girl who was supposed to thwart her. And to hit it further home, she wore Laemellon's headpiece on a belt like a trophy.

Claire tore her gaze away from Faramir-Morlyg in shame. She looked back at Frodo and saw that Peregrin was now standing next to him looking down at his dead cousin. The dark haired hobbit was lying peacefully on the patterned stone floor and Claire recognized what she had seen in Galadriel's mirror. This was indeed an insult to injury. She had been shown this would happen, but was still unable to stop it.

 _Follow the halfling,_ the Voice said in her head.

Pippin was still standing looking down at Frodo, but his expression was hard. Tears dripped from his chin as he clenched his fists at his sides. As Faramir took another step toward Denethor, Peregrin turned, drawing his sword at the same time, and slashed Faramir behind the kneecaps. The man gave a cry as he fell backwards. Peregrin hadn't cut deep; the man was wearing multiple layers that most likely included chainmail or leather, but the impact of the hobbit's blow was enough to make the tall human tip backwards and fall flat on his back.

Faramir caught him by the shoulder on the way down and both of them hit the floor with a multi-part crash of chainmail, armor, and clattering metal. The Ring flew from Faramir's open palm and bounced on the floor with a high reverberating note. It jumped across the floor until finally it rolled and then at last rested on the stone floor.

Both Faramir and Peregrin began to pull themselves up and both of them saw the Ring sitting on the floor. They made eye contact and for a split second it was anyone's game. With a resolve as equally as quick as his initial blow, Pippin thrust out his hand and grabbed the circle of gold. Faramir lunged forward, but Pippin rolled out of his grasp and got to his feet.

"Kill him!" Faramir cried. The other Ithilien Rangers who had been standing by drew their bows and set arrows to them. They let their arrows fly, but every shaft clattered on the floor. Pippin had vanished and the place where he had been standing was empty. The rangers looked around confused until suddenly the large doors at the far end of the room flew open by themselves. In the chaos, Claire could hear the unmistakeable _pat pat pat_ of bare feet that soon faded into the city.

"Get that halfling!" Faramir commanded his men. "Get the Ring from him! And bring me his head!"

Claire had already started running. She brushed past her fellow kitchen employees who called after her. She sped down the hall to the back stair tunnel. The headmistress of the kitchen stood in her way. The disagreeable woman scolded Claire for trying to leave her post and gripped her by the arm. Time was running out. Even now the rangers of Ithillien were chasing Peregrin down through the city and she needed to get to him before they did. Claire gave a sarcastic apology and kicked the woman in the shin. The headmistress let go of her arm and Claire ran to the stair tunnel.

She gripped the banister tightly as she ran down the narrow stairway, nearly losing her footing a few times. Her mind was racing and her heart pounding as she exited the tunnel and came out onto the fifth level of the city. She gasped for air as she looked around. She had to find Peregrin, get her sword from Losswen's house, and then make the jump. She was probably the only one in the entire city whom the hobbit could trust besides Beregond and maybe Gandalf, wherever they were.

Yet there was another problem. There was no telling how fast Peregrin could run, or how far he had gotten, or if he was hiding somewhere. She knew from previous times trying to catch a glimpse of him, that this city was absolutely enormous. Even if you were passing someone on the same level you might miss them due to the crowds and winding streets.

 _He's wearing the Ring_ , Eru reminded her.

It was so obvious, Claire blurted out, "Of course!"

She went to the edge of the wall encircling the fifth level and placing her hands along the edge, she took a deep breath. Concentrating, she willed her eyes to use _the sight._ Opening them, the world became a swirly haze of light and shadow. The dark shapes of people walked all around her, one or two of them stopping to gawk at her glowing eyes. None of this mattered now. If she undid this, the impression she made on any of the citizens would be lost. She spun around looking up and down across the city until at last…

"There he is!" she cried out in relief. Peregrin was running at full speed coming around the circle of the fifth level. As Claire looked at him with _the sight_ , he appeared to be a shadow but there was an aura about him that made him stand out from all the other people on the street. On his hand was a bright light that seemed to burn the very air around it.

Pippin was nearly to her now. She stepped out in front of him and put her hands up in front of her.

"Peregrin, stop!"

* * *

Pippin skidded to a halt as he realized who the woman in front of him was. The last time he had seen her, she had been washed away in the flood at Isengard. Now she stood before him alive and dressed in the black and silver of the Citadel. Not only that, but as he beheld her with the Ring on his finger, she stood out from the other people he had rushed past. Everyone else looked like a shadow, but she was glowing like a firebrand. Not only that, but her eyes were as bright as hot coals, wide and attentive.

"Wha - You can see me?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied and then shot a glance behind him. He turned as well and Peregrin saw that amidst the shadowy figures coming down through the city, there was one person who stood out from all the rest. This person was glowing, yet in a different way from Claeo.

He didn't have much time to think about it, for not a moment later Claeo grabbed him by the arm and start pulling him along.

"We have to get to the third level," Claeo yelled as they both ran down into the city. "I have to fix this."

Pippin wanted to ask how they were going to do that, but he decided that focusing on just running and keeping up with the young girl was the best course of action. She let go of him when she saw that he could keep up and she ran slightly ahead yelling at people to get out of the way as they ran down into the city. People seemed all too happy to do so, many of them crying out in alarm and shock as they saw her.

All the while they ran, Peregrin had a growing sense of dread. He was already heartbroken by the death of his cousin, but he was beginning to feel like he was being watched. He started to breath heavier as the memory of looking into the palantir washed over him. He recognized this feeling. The Eye was searching for him already and now it could see him. He glanced back, not at the party of rangers that were chasing them, but up at the overcast sky. With the Ring on his finger, the clouds looked like they were boiling like water in a cauldron. He felt like there was a huge hand reaching down for him. Pippin began to panic and he ran faster. Soon he was overtaking Claeo who was beginning to become winded.

At last Claeo yelled for him to stop. She came up to the door of a house and after opening it, they both slipped inside. She quickly shut the door behind them.

"Get down out of sight," she panted, still trying to catch her breath. They both sat against the door trying to be as silent as possible, though for Pippin it was hard. The feeling of the Eye upon him was nearly overwhelming now. They heard the tramp of feet pass by and after a few moments Claeo crept to the window and looked out.

"I think they passed us," she breathed.

* * *

There was no way to be sure that the troop they had heard pass by was the one that had followed them. Even if it wasn't the group that Faramir-Morlyg had been in, soon it wouldn't matter. Claire left the window and was beginning to make her way up the stairs to retrieve her sword when she saw the look on Pippin's face. He was terrified and through _the sight_ she saw the glow of the Ring on his finger become even brighter.

"He can see me!" Peregrin shuddered. "He knows I have it! They're coming for me!"

Claire was now feeding off of his panic. "Take it off!" she yelled gripping his hand.

Peregrin pulled away and yelled, "No!" Claire's jaw dropped. Was he seriously being overcome by the Ring this quickly? Did their proximity to Mordor increase it's addictive effects? There was no time for this nonsense and Claire knew they couldn't take the Ring with them.

She ignited her hands and the hobbit's eyes grew wide. She wondered what she must look like in the Ring world. She gripped the hobbit's wrist and said, "We don't have time for this! I'm sorry!" Pippin tried to pull away again, but she wasn't having it. She pulled the Ring from his finger and grasped it tightly in her palm.

All at once Claire's mind was filled with all manner of images. For a moment she thought that it would be a good idea to take the Ring with her. She could take it back in time and perhaps the two Rings would cancel each other out somehow. Not only would she be a Realm Jumper using the power of Eru, but she would also wield the most powerful object in this world. Then she thought about what it would be like to take the Ring to her own world, just leave now and forget about her mission. She could have all the friends she wanted. No one would say she was lame or uncool ever again, and anyone who did...well she would show them not to question her.

She snapped out of it. All of that was utter nonsense of course. She knew as soon as she blinked a few times as she stared at the golden object in her hand that she was being tempted. Claire flung the Ring across the room and it clattered against the wall and fell behind a chair. She turned back to Pippin who was still sitting against the door, his watery eyes wide in amazement.

"He could see me," the hobbit panted. "By the Shire, how did Frodo carry that thing?"

Claire was running up the stairs now. Bursting into her room, she found her sword leaning against the nightstand where she had left it. Hastily putting her belt on over her uniform, she reached for her Realm Jumper ring that hung from her neck. She unclasped the chain and stuffed it in her pocket. As she fingered the metal band she was careful not to slip it on her finger. If there was one thing she remembered from the "Magician's Nephew" it was that she had to touch Peregrin _before_ she put it on.

Running down the steps she saw that the front door was opening. Before she could draw her sword, she realized that it was only Losswen.

"What on earth is going on?" the young woman demanded as she stood in the doorway. She turned and saw Claire at the foot of the stairs. "The headmistress said that you kicked her!"

Suddenly a shadow came up behind the kitchen girl, and to Claire's utter horror, a bright red blade shot out from Losswen's chest. The poor girl gasped, her eyes filled with pain and shock. The blade withdrew and Losswen fell to the floor dead, blood pooling beneath her.

Faramir-Morlyg stood at the door. He shot a glance at Claire and seeing her horror, smiled. Then he turned and saw Peregrin who was equally horrified. Faramir-Morlyg took a step towards Pippin and raised his blade to strike.

Claire lunged for the hobbit, grabbed Peregrin's arm, and slipped on her ring.

* * *

Faramir-Morlyg's sword hit the floor with a metallic clang. The girl and the halfling were gone and in their place was nothingness. Indeed the Ithillien rangers standing behind him began to cry out in alarm as the stones beneath their feet began to shake. The floor where Claeo and Pippin had stood moments before suddenly burst, sending out a shock wave that turned the whole house and all who were inside to dust. Seconds later the rest of the city was also no more.

* * *

Outside of the city, a figure in a dark blue hooded cloak sat atop a horse watching the city disintegrate. The horse whinnied in panic and began to bolt taking its rider with it. In a moment they were both gone along with the ground they were standing on.


	25. The Reset

**The Reset**

When Claire came up out of the pool, she found herself gasping for air. She had been able to breathe in the emptiness that lies between worlds, but something had felt stifling in the transition. At one point she had looked down as they rose upward. Peregrin's wrist was still gripped tightly in her hand and the hobbit at her side was on the edge of panic. He was gasping like a fish out of water, though she could tell that he was breathing perfectly fine. Yet below them in the darkness something strange was happening and a horrible feeling came over her. She couldn't quite place it, but the term "existential dread" was the closest thing that came to mind.

Peregrin came up out of the pool after her. He too was gasping as he crawled out onto the grass. The two of them sat there for a while in complete silence. The halfling and young human, both clad in black and silver and both terribly shaken.

For the first time since the whole ordeal began, Claire was able to relax. Yet with the break in the tension, so also came the tears. Claire sat with her head in her hands weeping. She had messed up royally and yet it still could have been a lot worse. Looking back at it all she saw clearly how wrong she had been. She had done things her own way and it had sucked. Laemellon didn't have peace with going to Minas Tirith and really neither did Claire. But she had _wanted_ to go there. She made excuses coupled with Morlyg's lies to justify her choices. But she had been wrong.

And what had her selfish choices gotten her? Trying to gain control of her destiny had only made things sour. She had found a friend to stay with, but in order to get into the Citadel she had to get that job. Not that kitchen work was out of her wheelhouse, but she did waste a lot of time that she should have spent on the responsibilities given to her. In the end she had settled for the sake of doing things her way and it had ultimately ended in disaster. Oh how she would apologize to Laemellon if she ever saw her again. Claire had taken her friend's wisdom for granted and in the end the vanaloke died trying to fix the Claire's mistakes.

Claire didn't know if there was any kind of timetable they were supposed to follow at this point, but she was too scared to move. They had come this far and she was going to be sure they had a plan set in place before they did anything. She was done making selfish hasty decisions.

"Eru," she whispered. "Please forgive me. I followed my own path. Show me where I should go and what I should do. I failed. I'm so sorry." Her sorrow overwhelmed her and she sobbed.

A small hand tapped her on the shoulder and she looked up. Peregrin was in front of her sitting on the grass. He stared at her curiously.

"Excuse me...who are you? Have we met before?" the hobbit asked.

Claire rubbed her runny nose with the back of her hand and sighed. Elrain had told her about this back when she was teaching her about Realm Jumper stuff. Most people when they enter the Wood for the first time experience temporary amnesia. They forget how they got there, who they are, or where they are going. Digory and Polly experienced this in "The Magician's Nephew" and it was very apparent that Pippin was experiencing the same thing.

"We have met," Claire said trying to dry her eyes with her sleeve. "I'm Claeo. You and I are…"

Claire paused. She was going to say "We are friends," but was that still true? What had she done to this hobbit? She had gotten him mixed up in so much and now he had been pulled from his own world. She had failed him and Frodo. Before, when they had met at Isengard, she had been the big bad protector. That had gone to her head and it had made her irresponsible. Pippin was now lost, set adrift from the story he was supposed to be in and it was her fault.

"I'm so sorry," she said at last, fresh tears flowing down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry I got Frodo killed. It's all my fault Peregrin. I - I knew I should have followed Laemellon, but...I didn't want to." She said this half to him and half confessing to herself. Pippin looked confused, but the more she spoke the more his memory seemed to return.

"Frodo," he said softly. "We were on a journey to destroy...the Ring. He was the Ringbearer."

Claire looked down at the Realm Jumper ring still on her finger and thought about how she had actually held the Ring of Power in her own hands. She shuddered to think that she had almost been swayed.

They sat in silence as Peregrin stared out into the Wood for a few more moments. At last he said, "Frodo...Frodo is dead." The last words caught in Pippin's throat as he turned to face Claire. The young girl looked into his eyes and felt her own tears well up again. His sorrow only added to the guilt she was already feeling.

The hobbit stood up. "Where are we?!" he demanded, his memory finally caught up with the present. "We...we were in a Minas Tirith. But this is a wood." He looked down at Claire still sitting on the grass. She was exhausted from crying and her eyes stung horribly.

"Claeo," he said. "What have you done?"

"I messed up. I am so sorry." She looked up at him with tear filled eyes. "Pippin, please forgive me."

He stood looking down at her and didn't say a word. Claire could tell the awful truth in his face: he couldn't forgive her, not yet. Because of what she had told him in Isengard, he was well aware of the fact that she was supposed to protect him and the other hobbits from Morlyg. The more he thought about it, the more he seemed to understand why she was so sorry.

"Where are we?" he repeated.

"This is the Wood Between the Worlds. It's the in-between place between realms. I am from one of those pools over there and Middle-earth is that pool there. I was sent to keep Morlyg, that shapeshifter, from killing you and the other hobbits. But I - I failed. So we have come here so that we can go back in time and I can fix this. I'm so sorry I brought you here, but I didn't have a choice. Someone had to come with me, those where the rules."

Peregrin looked around at the Wood again. "These pools are... other lands?"

"Other worlds," Claire said. "Places you could never get to even if you traveled to the very edge of Middle-earth. It's a strange concept to grasp, but it's true."

Pippin took a deep breath and sat down beside her on the grass.

"You said we could fix things," he said. "How do we do that?"

"We have to go back into the Middle-earth pool and I can make sure none of this ever happens." She paused and then said, "I'm going to make sure Morlyg never lays a hand on Frodo. I'll die before I let that happen."

Pippin was silent. Claire tried to say something reassuring, half for him and half for herself.

"Eru is in control and He hasn't forgotten us. I've done what I was told to do in order to reset things. I suppose I'm back on His path. After this, that is what I plan to do from now on." She sighed deeply and looked up at the canopy. "I've learned my lesson."

"Eru...you mean Illuvatar from the old tales of the elves?"

"Yeah. He made all of this," she said gesturing around them. "I know it sounds crazy, but He has been talking to me, helping me all this time. But I didn't even think to ask Him which way I should go when we left Isengard. That was my mistake. I thought I knew better than the One who literally knows the future."

The hobbit next to her stood up. "Well let's do it then," he said.

Claire didn't move. "I don't know if I'm ready," she lamented.

Peregrin huffed and said, "It's time to be ready."

His statement caught her off guard. She looked up at him and was struck by his expression. He looked annoyed, even angry.

"If this...this Eru really does exist and this..." He waved around at the surrounding trees, "Isn't a dream, and you really are some strange woman from another world with magic and the like, then I think that you are quite ready to fix this."

The hobbit put out his hand and Claire took it in hers. He helped lift her to her feet as well as someone who is just under 4 feet tall can for someone who is 5' 6".

"Thank you Pippin," she said smiling, but the hobbit didn't return it. He was being polite and that was all. Underneath his politeness she could tell he was disturbed and just wanted to get out of there.

They were at the edge of the pool now. Staring down into the water, she thought about how odd they looked side by side. Both clad in black and silver and both mentally exhausted. She slipped her ring off her finger and then put it on again to reset it. Then she took Pippin's hand in hers.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

"No," Pippin said solemnly. Claire didn't inquire further. It was so strange to see Pippin upset. Indeed, he refused to look at her now. She had pulled him from his own world without even asking him. In a way, she had kidnapped him and regret began to fill her heart.

* * *

Claire and Pippin stepped into the pool and began to descend into the rushing depths. Soon Claire felt solid ground forming beneath her feet and light and shape began to become visible. Suddenly Pippin's hand vanished from hers. The sensation made her panic and she flailed her arms trying to grab a hold of him.

"Peregrin!" she yelled in fear as the colors and shapes began to fade. What was happening? Had something gone wrong with their journey?

"Peregrin!" she yelled sitting up. Claire stopped still. Had she been lying down? Apparently this was so, for now she found herself sitting on solid ground with a blanket over her. It was morning and she was in a woody clearing near an old and smouldering campfire. Taking in the scene, the realization of where she was became clear. The mountains loomed on her right and the plains were on the left. Adding to her supposition, another sleeping form moved nearby.

"Did you have a dream about that halfling," Laemellon asked unwrapping herself from her wings. Claire stared at her wide eyed, jaw agape.

"What day is it?" the young girl asked.

"What do you mean?" Laemellon said standing and stretching her shoulders.

Claire flung her blanket off and stood. "I mean what is the date? The date!"

"It's the 6th of March. But you should know that. You are the one who is so obsessed with dates."

Claire gave an incredulous gasping laugh and threw her arms around the vanaloke. "Oh! Thank God! I did it! It worked!"

Laemellon, who was not a touchy feely individual, stood with her arms awkwardly poised in the air. The vanaloki did not "hug" and the concept was something she hadn't quite grasped yet. At last she patted Claire on the back as the young girl buried her face in the vanaloke's shoulder.

"I am so sorry Laemellon!" Claire said. "You were right. You're alway right. I was just too stubborn to see it." She pulled back and cradled the vanaloke's long snout in her hands. This was equally as bizarre to Laemellon as the hug had been.

"You brilliant green wonder," Claire said grinning, tears filling her eyes. Much to the vanaloke's relief, she stopped touching Laemellon after that. Claire began to quickly gather up her things and Laemellon stood awkwardly by trying to process what was happening.

"Claeo...are you feeling alright?"

"Never better," the girl said as she stuffed her blanket into her saddlebag. "We have to get going though. I know where Morlyg is headed."

"Yes, I'm familiar. It's all you talked about for the past two days. She is going to Minas Tirith."

"Oh but that's where we are wrong...or rather I am wrong. You've been right this whole time. She is totally messing with us. See, lemme check something."

Claire shifted her vision to _the sight_ and looked around. Just like it had been before on this morning, Morlyg was nowhere to be seen.

"She's gone. Out of sight," she declared continuing to pack up her things. "But she is messing with us. You remember when you mentioned how convenient it was that she was just within our view this whole trip? Well she is doing it on purpose to make us think that we are effectively chasing her, but in reality she is leading us where she wants us to go."

"Claeo…"

"And on top of that, the whole thing with Pippin and wanting to kill only him because he messed up her face...that's a ruse too. She has been playing us Laemellon, but now we have the upper hand. Now we are going to follow the correct path."

"Claeo…"

"Yeah," Claire said at last taking a breath and turning to look at Laemellon. The vanaloke had quite a serious expression.

"You used the realm spell didn't you?"

Claire fell silent for the first time since she had woken up. She had told Laemellon about the time travel option many days ago as they were traveling to Isengard. She had also mentioned how Elrain had advised heavily against it.

"Yes," she said at last.

Laemellon frowned. "But Elrain advised against it! She said it would be dangerous. How could you do such a thing?"

"Because you were killed," Claire blurted out. Laemellon fell silent as the young girl's brown eyes began to well with tears. She wiped them frustration.

"Ugh, I feel as if I've cried enough for a lifetime," Claire moaned. "And yes, I knew that it was dangerous, but stuff happened that I couldn't fix in addition to your death. I had no choice."

Laemellon didn't say anything else. Claire finished tightening a strap on her horse and then turned and said, "Besides, nothing seems to have been affected. What harm can it do to reset things to the way they were?"

"Let's hope nothing," the vanaloke mused.

The two of them mounted their horses and took off at a gallop eastward. It was a day and a half journey to Ithilien and there wasn't a moment to lose.

* * *

The pursuit of Morlyg was very different now than it had been before. Claire and Laemellon pushed their horses to the limit as they sped across hill and dale. At last Claire could see the glimmering form of Morlyg in the distance. They continued to ride hard until nightfall when Laemellon insisted they give the horses a rest. They stopped for only a few hours before starting again. Even though she had ridden hard through the day, Claire wasn't tired. She was energized and driven by a vengeance that burned in her heart. It was strange, but she felt that she had to catch the demon not only to stop her from corrupting the story, but to pay her back for the wrongs she had done in a timeline that no longer existed.

On the morning of the 7th of March, the day Claire had originally parted with Laemellon and entered Minas Tirith, both she and the vanaloke could at last see the outline of the mountains around Mordor. Morlyg was also getting closer and closer. As they rode, the sun began to peek over the blanket of cloud stretching out from the land of shadow. Noon was drawing near and Claire knew that they were getting close to Frodo, Sam, and Faramir. This would be the day that the rangers of Ithillien would have a big fight with the Southrons and Samwise Gamgee would see the Oliphant.

The country changed from a flat plain dotted with tree and brook to rolling and steep hilly deciduous wood. Claire's heart began to beat faster as they sped along. The horses panted as they plodded the rough terrain. Morlyg couldn't have been more than a hundred feet ahead now. She was scrambling through the wood, well aware of the intense pursuit behind her. At last they came out onto a flatter place that cut in and out of the rolling hills.

Laemellon was just behind Claire, her wings bent to their most aerodynamic position as she stood in the stirrups. She glanced back and then yelled to Claire, "Look behind! Someone is following us!"

Looking behind Claire saw a figure on a grey horse. The person was clad in a long dark blue cloak that billowed out behind them as they galloped along. A large hood hid the person's face and in the chaos of the chase Claire was unable to make out who it was. She did however recognize the style of the saddle and bridle on the horse. It was the same as their horses from Lothlorien.

The mysterious pursuer drew up beside them and then passed them, taking off after Morlyg at an incredible speed. The path suddenly turned a bend and that was when Claire and Laemellon realized they had to stop.

Morlyg was in full view now, running as fast as her legs could carry her. At the speed she was going, it would have been very easy to catch her now save one important factor: she was running straight into the middle of a battle.

The Southrons, the men of Harad, were running headlong down a far hill pursued by several Ithilien rangers. Everywhere men were engaged in combat and Morlyg ran directly into the fray. Claire lept off her horse as fast as she could. After tying the horse to a tree, she took off after the demon and Laemellon followed suite. Running into a battle probably wasn't the wisest thing to do, but Claire was determined that Morlyg would not get away this time. If the Dark Lord himself had stood in her way she might have still run after the fallen Maia.

As they entered the battle, Claire ducked the sword of a Harad warrior, sidestepped another and then continued to run. She was almost to Morlyg now. She could see her dark hair whipping in the wind and her red sword was in her hand. Yet the demon's stamina was considerably more than Claire's at this point and the young girl was beginning to feel a pain in her side from the running. She panted and pleaded. "Please! I can't lose her now."

From the side the mysterious cloaked pursuer came, their horse riding up perpendicular to Claire and Morlyg's path. The person lept from the saddle and landed with surprising skill a few yards in front of Morlyg. The demon continued to advance, her blade poised to strike the strange new challenger. The person withdrew a long curved blade, yet held it behind them in their left hand, back straightened, waiting for their opponent to make the first strike. Morlyg lunged at the hooded figure who ducked the demon's sword by mere inches. Then to the shock of Claire, Laemellon, and especially Morlyg, the stranger brought their fist forward and clocked Morlyg right on the jaw. It couldn't have been a more perfect punch; the stranger's arm was straight and solid as a steel beam. Claire quite literally ducked out of the way as Morlyg's body flew backwards. Lamellon was further behind and the vanaloke's eyes were wide in amazement. What kind of person can punch a demon in the face?

The battle was still raging around them so there was no time to ask for an explanation. Morlyg sprang up rubbing her bruised jaw with her free hand. Her eyes were wide with shock and offense, but when she saw Claire standing there, she cracked a smile. Claire's blood burned. It was the same smile the demon had given her disguised as Faramir back in Minas Tirith, from her perspective hours before. Rage rose up in Claire's soul.

The young girl drew her sword, ignited her hands, and laid into the fallen maia with a passion and aggression she had no idea she was capable of. The image of Losswen's face as she had been stabbed in the back flowed through Claire's mind as she slashed at Morlyg again and again. Usually anger got Claire in trouble and made her clumsy. Yet this time somehow it gave her strength and she felt in her soul that this was actually what she was supposed to do. She could have sworn she heard Eru say _Smite her with all the wrath you can wield_ and she was all to happy to oblige.

Suddenly the ground beneath their feet shook and out of the trees bounded an enormous creature. The Oliphant, a great elephant-like beast nearly 3 times the size of a normal elephant, stomped through the forest in a flurry of splintered wood and upturned earth. The beast was coming straight for them and Claire and Morlyg looked up from their fight too late to get out of its path. The creature was nearly on them and Claire hoped that being crushed by its huge feet would be a swift and painless death. She heard the twang of a bow from behind her and the creature gave a cry as it lunged to the side in the nick of time, turning away and running in a different direction.

Its massive tusks swept low over them as it turned and Claire ducked just in time. Morlyg however was not so lucky. The oliphant's tusk struck her so hard that it threw her nearly 30 feet into the air in a westernly direction back towards where they had come from. She landed in the woods with a crash.

Claire turned and saw the cloaked figure lower a bow. The person had shot at the oliphant which had turned the great beast. Claire gawked as she realized what had just happened. The oliphant had turned just like that in _The Lord of the Rings_. Had she just been a part of fulfilling an event in the book?

But that question would have to wait. Struggling to her feet she took off after Morlyg and Laemellon followed close behind. The battle was dissipating as they ran through the wood and soon they found where the demon had landed. Morlyg struggled and crawled, and Claire wasn't sure if she was going to get very far. To her surprise, the demon got to her feet and started running back westward away from the battle and away from Faramir and his rangers.

Yet this didn't slow Claire's pursuit. She was more focused than she had ever been, the hard and painful images of the tragedy she had witness burning in her mind. Morlyg staggered through the woods ahead of her and it seemed that perhaps then Claire would at last complete the mission she had been sent for.

Out from the brush a horse appeared and as Morlyg lept onto the saddle Claire realized that it was in fact _her_ horse from Lothlorien. In the rush of pursuit, she had failed to notice that they were retreading their steps and had come back to where she had left it. As Morlyg pulled on the horse's reins, Claire cried out "Stop!" But that of course went unheeded. Before she sped away, the demon made eye contact with Claire and the young girl could see the change in her demeanor. Morlyg was retreating. She knew the long con was over and there was only one thing left to do now: escape. Her defeated visage gave Claire one last surge of adrenaline as the young girl lunged for the horse's bridle. But she grasped thin air and stumbled to her knees as the horse sped away into the forest.

For the first time in approximately 36 hours, Claire stopped. She was done pursuing for now and exhaustion was beginning to sweep over her. Laemellon came up behind and stopped when she saw the horse and its rider shrinking into the distant wood.

"Are you alright?" she asked leaning down to look at Claire.

The young girl waved her off. "I'm ok," she said flatly. "We - we can't stop for long. We have to catch her."

"But we stopped her, yes? We stopped her from doing what she did before?"

Claire nodded panting in relief as she continued to sit on the ground. "Frodo and Sam are in the custody of Faramir now. I don't know how she did it before, but whatever it was, I think she has lost her opportunity. Would you fly up and see what direction she is headed?"

Laemellon leapt into the sky and circled for a few minutes. As she landed back down to earth she said, "Morlyg is heading southwest. Toward a city set into the end of the mountain range."

"Minas Tirith," Claire breathed. "At least this time we can know she is actually going there."

She rose to her feet, her knees wobbling for a moment. The sudden stop to their intense chase had winded her and she leaned on a nearby tree for a moment before getting her bearings.

"The city will be heavily guarded," Claire said and then added with a smile, "But I know the passwords and a few people from the previous timeline that we can use to our advantage."

"You will do nothing of the sort," said a voice behind them. Laemellon and Claire turned and saw the strange cloaked person, the one who had punched Morlyg in the face. The person strode into the clearing where they were and pulled back their hood. Laemellon and Claire gasped. They knew the face all too well.

It was Elrain.


	26. The Informant

**The Informant**

Claire's face lit up at the sight of her old friend, but her joy was soon diffused by the elf's demeanor. Her gaze was deadly serious as she said, "My dear Claeo, what have you done?"

"I thought - I thought you were supposed to be in Lothlorien?" Claire stammered, evading the question.

"I was," Elrain said. "But I ran into an informant of mine who told me you would be needing my help slowing Morlyg down."

Laemellon stepped forward. "Well you certainly did," she said, addressing the elf. "I've not seen a move like that before. Your arm must be made of steel to deal such a blow."

Elrain rubbed her wrist absent-mindedly. "It comes with the job." She turned back to Claire and said, "So you used the realm spell despite my warning. I hope to Eru that it was worth it."

"Oh trust me it was," Claire huffed and then added, "But we don't have time for this, we have to catch Morlyg." She turned but Elrain caught her by the shoulder.

"We will worry about that cursed creature later. She's going to Minas Tirith. You don't have to worry about losing her."

"How do you know that?" Claire asked curtly.

Elrain's face became tight and her eyes darted around as she said, "It doesn't matter how I know that. Trust me. Things have become complicated since we parted. And it hasn't helped that you used that realm spell. I must tell you Claeo, being atomized and reconstituted is an experience I don't look forward to repeating."

Both Claire and Laemellon exchanged a confused glance.

"Atomized?" Claire questioned. "What are you even talking about?"

"Oh you don't even know do you?" the elf said mimicking Claire's tone. "What do you think happens when you time travel? Hmm? You probably assume that you generate an alternate timeline or some such rubbish as that don't you? Well that is fantasy Claeo. No, when you went back in time the entire world unravelled and was reconstituted when you returned yesterday morning."

"How did you know it was yesterday," Laemellon asked.

"Because I was actually quite close to Minas Tirith on...what was it? The 10th? Yes, I was about to approach the city just after noon when I saw the whole thing go up in a puff of dust. Then the wave came towards me and I have to say that of all the terrors I have witnessed, I have never experienced the fear of oblivion before like that. I felt myself cease to be and then suddenly I was back along the road further northward at the exact spot I had been on the morning of the 6th. That's how I knew."

Claire was horrified. "But... will everyone remember being atomized?"

"Of course not," Elrain said. " _I_ remember because I've been outside of this realm before and traveled to other worlds. No, the only other people who will be aware of the change are you, me, and whoever you took with you."

Claire looked down at the ground trying to process what she was hearing. She had no idea that reality itself would be rewritten. Yet the more she thought about it, the more it made sense.

"It is because of that very factor," Elrain said. "That I pray whoever you took with you is not important to this story."

Claire's head shot up and Elrain's gaze soon matched her wide eyed anxious expression. "By the Valar," the elf muttered. "Who did you take with you?"

Claire glanced sideways at Laemellon, who stared at her knowingly.

"Pippin," she whispered, as if saying it loud would make things worse.

"Pippin!?" Elrain exclaimed. The elf looked as if she might come unhinged and then closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Well there's no fixing that now," she said through her teeth. "He probably won't remember anything right away and if we are lucky, he won't remember at all."

"What would make him remember?"

"Oh lots of things. If he did something in this timeline very similar to the old one, that might jog his memory. Or when he sees you again he might remember. It's hard to tell." Elrain rubbed the bridge of her nose and moaned, "Time travel. I swore when I became a Realm Jumper I would stay far away from it, but here we are."

She paused and then said, "I came here for two reasons. First of all, my informant told me you would need some help slowing Morlyg down and second…" Elrain paused, considering her next words carefully. "I know what Morlyg's motive is."

Claire was incredulous. "But...I assumed she was after the Ring. Or after power or something."

"Well it's none of those things. You see apparently my informant found out that her motive actually has to do more with that book you carry than anything else. Morlyg has a copy of that book, but her goal isn't to get the Ring. No, her actual goal is to ruin the story."

"Ruin the story," Claire repeated, her brow furrowed in confusion. "What for?"

"That I don't know," Elrain said regretfully. "I asked my informant the same question and they said that it was yet to be seen."

"But how does killing the hobbits...?"

Even as Claire began to ask the question, she put two and two together.

"The hobbits," she breathed at last. "Without them there is no story is there? I suppose that makes sense. But what would ruining the story do? What does that gain her?"

"I don't know," Elrain said. "But one thing is for sure. Morlyg is headed for Minas Tirith and you can be sure that she will be going after Peregrin when he gets there."

"Hold on," Claire said putting up a hand. "How did you know Pippin is going to be in Minas Tirith?"

Elrain turned a bit pale but held her ground. "My informant. They told me."

Claire leaned in suspiciously. Her encounter in Minas Tirith had made her wary if nothing else and she could definitely tell that her old elf friend was hiding something.

"So your informant knows the future I take it? Because Pippin won't arrive in Minas Tirith till the day after tomorrow and he and Gandalf are supposed to be traveling in secret."

"Claeo," Elrain said slowly. "You need to trust me. As I said, things have become complicated. I myself have had to process quite a lot and if I told you everything, you might not be able to comprehend it."

"Oh I can comprehend a lot," Claire said arching an eyebrow and moving closer to Elrain. She peered into the elf's face and said, "I've watched science fiction all my life. I know how to process a complicated story."

Elrain blinked and gave Claire a cold look. "Be that as it may, you won't get anymore information from me."

"Very well then," Claire said. She gave Elrain one last _ive-got-my-eye-on-you_ look and then turned to Laemellon.

"Morlyg took my horse. Would you mind if I rode yours and you flew the rest of the way?"

"Not at all," Laemellon replied as she continued to look suspiciously at Elrain. "I'll keep an eye on you two from up above."

* * *

It was half a day's ride to Minas Tirith and along the way Elrain made Claire tell her every detail of the other timeline. Claire started with when she and Laemellon parted ways. Elrain was already agitated and Claire thought that telling the elf about how she had spilled the beans in Isengard wouldn't have helped, so she left that part out. When she reached the part where she had told Peregrin about the Wood between the Worlds and that she was from another world, Elrain became even more upset.

"You told him about other worlds? Were you trying to traumatize him more?

Claire shrugged. "He asked. What was I supposed to do?"

Elrain shook her head. "If that hobbit remembers, it won't be easy for him. Such knowledge can change the course of one's life."

Claire looked up at Laemellon circling overhead and said, "I felt responsible for him Elrain. I felt responsible for all of them. Faramir, Frodo, Losswen...they died because of me." She paused for a moment and added, "I asked Peregrin to forgive me, but he couldn't. I suppose that hurt most of all. I could tell that he held me responsible for their deaths."

"They died because of Morlyg," Elrain said trying to comfort her. "Their blood was not on your hands."

"But it was, Elrain. I went to Minas Tirith not because I needed to, but because I wanted to. I was selfish and I shirked my responsibility. I failed miserably."

"Yes," the elf conceded. "But at the same time, even in the midst of your failure, Eru provided a way of escape."

The conversation fell silent as their horses plodded down the path westward. At last Elrain said, "Not to add to your anxiety, but you should be aware that there may be other repercussions to your time jump."

"Ugh!" Claire moaned frustratedly. "Why would I have been given that option if it only served to screw things up further?"

"Eru often provides ways to fix our mistakes, but even when we are forgiven the consequences still remain. That's the way things are. It's a basic law of physics as well time travel. You can't take away something without affecting something else. Power comes at a price. You went back in time and fixed things, but you cannot do such a thing without some give and take. That doesn't mean that your jump was in vain. On the contrary, you seemed to have fixed things so far to my knowledge. And the repercussion I mentioned may not even affect Middle-earth itself. But don't you remember what I told you about realm spells? Sometimes the consequences are worth it."

"And what are the consequences," Claire asked regretfully.

"I don't know for sure. You and Peregrin traveled through time. I would assume that the both of you may experience a few things in your future because of that act. What those things may be, none but Eru can see. But take comfort in this: He is in control. No timeline can separate you from His hand upon your path."

Claire did take comfort in Elrain's words, but the foreboding future consequences still weighed upon her mind. What kind of side effects come from time travel? And how would it effect the youngest member of the Fellowship? If he _did_ remember her failure and then some weird side effects also occurred, the hobbit would really hate her then. Claire found herself desperately hoping that he didn't or wouldn't remember anything.

"When we parted in Lothlorien," Claire said after a few moments, "You were so confident in me. I'm sorry I didn't live up to your expectations."

Elrain frowned and said, "My dear Claeo, I still have confidence in you. I'm sorry that I came off so harshly. I - I have been through a lot, as have you. Even I have made mistakes." She looked off into the distance and muttered softly, "Will make mistakes too."


	27. The Arrival

**The Arrival**

At the setting of the sun on the 7th, they at last reached the gates of Minas Tirith. Claire thought back to that first night after working in the kitchen and how nice it had been to walk back to Losswen's house as the sun went down behind them. That was this night too and she imagined Losswen walking home alone and with no money to fix her roof. Claire wondered if there was some way she could recreate the events of their meeting and somehow become Losswen's friend again.

As they approached the gate, Laemellon descended to meet them. She said that she had seen Morlyg crawl over the wall of the city and into the first level. Laemellon cloaked herself as they approached the guards. It had been agreed that it would be best if she remained hidden from view. Like in the other timeline, the vanaloke prefered this. Elrain also insisted that she give the passwords which she already knew. When Claire asked why she couldn't use the passwords she had learned from the previous timeline, the elf elaborated on the situation.

"Every interaction you had in this city before cannot be repeated again without risk," she said. "I realize some of them cannot be avoided, but time here is unstable."

"You mean like there might be some kind of anomaly? Like a tear in the space time continuum?"

Elrain gave Claire a quizzical look as the great doors of the City began to open before them. "For someone who just became a Realm Jumper, you seem to know a lot about temporal incursions."

"I watch a lot of television," Claire replied with a slight grin.

"Indeed," Elrain mused. "Well there may not be any tears so to speak. The main danger is people remembering. Like that girl Losswen for instance. If you become friends with her and somehow jog her memory, she might remember being stabbed through the heart. There is no telling how she might react to that. People who don't as you put it 'watch a lot of television', can have a difficult time understanding things like memories from an alternate timeline. It can be quite traumatic."

"But, I was hoping to become her friend again," Claire lamented. "She needs help paying for her roof and her brother is away at war. I got the feeling that she really needed a friend."

They inquired about lodging and found that there was a room available in the royal guest house on the upper level inside the Citadel. Apparently Elrain had connections and she assured Claire that she would be able to get them into the Citadel without a problem. They rode their horses up into the city and made their way to the stables that were there.

"Perhaps there is another way you can get the money to her without risking her remembering?" Elrain said as they rode along. "I'm sure you can figure something out. You have all day tomorrow I suppose."

A thought dawned on Claire. She didn't have to work in the kitchen this time round. That was a relief. She hoped that this trip to Minas Tirith would be nicer than the last one.

The room that was given to Claire and Elrain (and unbeknownst to their hosts, Laemellon) was one of the many rooms set into a long hallway in a section of the Citadel facing southeast. It was a simple dwelling, yet nicely furnished by Gondorian standards. There were two beds on opposite walls, a couch, and a few chairs set at a table near a window looking out on the lands below. Claire and Elrain took the beds and Laemellon took the couch. Claire suggested they rotate for the sake of everyone's comfort, but after trying out the couch, Laemellon said she preferred it.

* * *

The next day Claire and Elrain were given an audience with Denethor. The Steward of the City was courteous enough, but Claire couldn't help remembering his passiveness at the murder of Frodo. Not only that, but she felt a chill in his presence knowing what madness would overtake him in the end. Elrain dropped a few names as well as her own and the two women were given leave to come and go from the Citadel so long as they did not interfere with important matters. Claire got the impression that Denethor didn't think much of them and thus didn't care what they did.

After this meeting they began the search for Morlyg. It was a safe bet to assume she would stay in the city somewhere until Peregrin arrived. Frodo and Sam would soon be entering Mordor and become untraceable. Merry was with the Rohirrim many miles away. So if Morlyg wanted to get at one of the four hobbits, Peregrin was the closest.

As noon passed, they took a break from their search and Claire separated from Elrain and Laemellon for a few minutes. She knew that Losswen might go back to her house for the lunch hour and she wanted to meet her there. Claire wasn't exactly sure what she would do, but at least she wanted to see the girl alive with her own eyes.

Making her way down to the third level, she came around the infamous corner. She paused and then walked cautiously around to the front of the house. No bucket of water this time. Her spirit sunk when she saw no sign of the young woman. She thought about peering in the front window, but that might draw attention from the people on the street.

Claire stood in front of the house a few steps back looking up at the roof. It was covered with curved interlocking shingles. The house was almost an exact square and the four sides of the roof came to a point. It wasn't a steep roof, but it was quite high up. Claire noticed that a few of the shingles were cracked or missing and she wondered how expensive they were.

Suddenly the front door opened and Losswen came out. Claire's heart leapt into her throat at the sight of her. There she was, clad in the same uniform and with her hair pulled into a tight bun at the back of her head. Seeing someone you once saw die was a bizarre sensation and Claire stood awkwardly silent as Losswen eyed her curiously.

"Hello," Losswen said at last. "Can I help you?"

"Um...yeah. I mean, no. I don't need any help. It's just...I noticed that your roof needs repairing."

Losswen's eyes followed where Claire pointed. She turned back to her and said, "Oh yes. I'm afraid it does. I am saving up to get it fixed."

The young woman began to bid Claire farewell, but Claire added, "Um, wait. I - I know it sounds strange, but I would like to help you out."

"You what?" Losswen said taken aback.

"I'm a visitor in the city and I saw your roof and I feel like you need this more than I do."

Claire handed Losswen the pouch of money. The young woman took it gingerly and looked inside. She gasped.

"Oh my! Oh...oh but surely I cannot accept this. I don't even know who you are."

"That's ok," Claire said quickly. "I'm happy to contribute."

"What is your name?"

"I'm a friend," Claire said. Losswen stared at her forlornly until at last she consented and said, "I'm called Claeo."

"I'm Losswen, Daughter of Erethor," the young woman said.

"Pleased to meet you," Claire said starting to back away. "Well I must be going. Good luck with your roof."

"Th-thank you. Thank you Claeo!" Losswen called as Claire began to walk away.

Walking away from the house, Claire felt a strange mixture of sadness and satisfaction. Losswen would be able to fix her roof, but Claire would never have the pleasure of having tea with her. It was a sacrifice she would have to make.

* * *

After another afternoon of searching out the city, the three companions still saw no sign of the fallen Maia. Claire consented that it wasn't as dire that they find Morlyg until during the siege. If Morlyg's plan was to get at Pippin and they didn't know where Morlyg was, then the best course of action was just to keep an eye on the hobbit when Gandalf or other prominent individuals were not nearby.

Therein lay the conundrum. Claire didn't want Pippin to remember the past timeline, which meant that she needed to stay out of his sight. Guarding and protecting someone is pretty hard when you don't want them to know you are there, and Claire wondered how she was going to make this work.

The next day Claire went out of her way to avoid Pippin at all costs. She sent Laemellon to spy out the throne room when Gandalf and Pippin arrived. When Pippin went to meet Beregond, the vanaloke brought back a report to Claire. Claire lamented that her special Realm Jumper ability was not invisibility. Yet she was willing to take what she could get and the vanaloke was more than happy to stay busy by scouting out the city. Meanwhile Claire stayed in her room for most of the day, peering out from her window wondering if she could catch a glimpse of Peregrin down below. She spent the day reading and re-reading all the important chapters from this time period. She also jotted down a few notes on all the hobbit's movements to figure out the best course of action.

Every once in awhile, during times of the day she knew Pippin wouldn't run into her, she left their room and scouted out the layout of the Citadel and the courtyard on the eastern side. She stood on the vast outcropping of stone that overlooked the city, the Pelennor, and the dark foreboding borders of Mordor. With the wind in her hair, standing on the most impressive of heights, she felt that only an impressive soundtrack would make such a moment more epic. Before she returned to her room, she had walked to the very tip and looked down at the extremely fearful height. "I wonder if you could sky dive or cliff jump from here?" she had thought, yet the idea of jumping from such a height filled her with dread and she quickly made her way back to the guest rooms.

At dinner time, Elrain returned from the dining hall with food for all three of them and they ate in their room. The sun was setting and the dull red glow contrasted with the grey cloud cover rising in the east was both beautiful and foreboding.

"So," Claire said, talking with her mouth full. "Pippin and Gandalf got here today, and tomorrow Pippin is going to get his uniform. Those who wear the black and silver of the gaurd can't leave the Citadel without Denethor's permission."

She examined the timeline in the back of _The Lord of the Rings_ for a moment and then took another bite out of the piece of bread in her hand.

"We can't find Morlyg in this huge city which is understandable. That being the case, we need to keep an eye on Pippin which won't be hard considering he will soon have to stay up here on the seventh level."

"So what is your plan," Elrain asked.

"My plan is this: Laemellon will keep an eye on things in the throne room. Meanwhile Elrain and I will kinda hang around outside and around the wall of the 7th level. If Morlyg tries to get in, or is already inside, we will know."

"Wouldn't it be better if you stayed with the halfling," Laemellon asked. "He knows who you are at least and you are better equipped to confront Morlyg than I am."

Claire frowned and looked down absentmindedly. "You're right, but I need to stay as far away from Pippin as I can. I want to keep him from remembering if at all possible."

"There may be no stopping that," Elrain remarked. "For all you know, he has remembered already. If he hasn't then you need to be careful not to repeat any of the events involving him from the previous timeline."

"Well, we will try to play things safe," Claire said picking up the water pitcher that Elrain had brought from the dining hall. "I'm gonna sneak out and get more water. Do either of you need anything?"

They both shook their heads.

Claire stepped out of the room and shut the door behind her. Shifting the large pitcher from the crook of her arm to her right hand, she looked down the long hallway that the other guestrooms were set into.

She nearly dropped the pitcher. There, walking toward her down the hallway, was Peregrin Took himself. She swore internally as they made eye contact and she began mentally kicking herself for being so forgetful. She had literally just read about this day in the book and about how Pippin would be coming back to his and Gandalf's room at this time of the evening. For a moment she thought she might be able to get away, but the look on his face was unmistakable: he was just as surprised to see her as she was to see him.

Claire gripped the pitcher between her hands nervously as the hobbit approached. His eyes were wide in amazement and his mouth was slightly open as if he were trying to form the words to say.

"Claeo?" he said as he looked up at her in wonder. "You're alive!"

"Uh," she said through and grin. "Yeah, I am."

"Indeed," he said amazed by her casual answer. He gave a soft chuckle and said, "I dare say, Merry and I thought you were dead. The last we saw of you was when you were swept away by the flood."

"Oh...oh you mean the flood at Isengard?" Claire asked.

Peregrin arched an eyebrow. "Of course. What else would I be referring to?"

"I uh," Claire mumbled searching for words. It seemed that Pippin didn't remember the other timeline, thank God. Now she just had to remember how much he knew and not spoil this good fortune. "You are right. Sorry, it's been a while and my days are all mixed up."

The halfling eyed her critically and said with a crooked smile, "Claeo, you are the strangest young woman I've ever met. But I am glad to see you are alright. What are you doing in Minas Tirith?" He blinked and added, "And for that matter, how _did_ you survive? Your dragon friend didn't tell us very much when she came for your sword."

"I was lucky," Clarie added with a sheepish grin. "And as for being in the City, I'm...visiting."

Suddenly the door to Claire's room flew open and Elrain poked her head out.

"Who are you talking to? Have you got the water yet?" the elf said, but then paused when she saw the hobbit standing in front of Claire. "Oh," she said weakly as she stood in the doorway.

"Elrain, this is Peregrin," Claire said gesturing to the hobbit.

"Yes, we met in Lothlorien," the elf replied. She waved awkwardly. "Good to see you again."

Pippin gave a courteous smile and said, "Are you also hunting down that strange skin-changing demon who was trying to kill Merry and I?"

Elrain turned her head slowly to look at Claire who suddenly wished she could hide. Elrain's look could have curdled milk, but she forced a smile and then turned back to Peregrin.

"Ah, well...yes. I am helping Claeo look for that...individual. Um, how much exactly do you know about that?"

"Well, that vile creature attacked Merry and I at the gate of Isengard. We thought Claeo was a spy since she had the opportunity to rescue us from the orcs yet didn't. But then the flood came and Claeo fought with that - that- thing. I assumed it was a skin changer because _you_ mentioned that it was the orc that attacked me." At the word "you", Pippin had pointed at Claire who stiffened a bit.

"I can see you have been busy since Lothlorien," Elrain said flatly to Claire.

The young girl smiled weakly and then in a far too cheery tone said, "Well, glad everyone is all right. We'll see you around Pippin." Claire ducked inside leaving Elrain and Pippin standing in the hallway. Claire met Laemellon's gaze and silently put her hands to the side of her head in bewilderment.

Elrain exchanged a few more words with Pippin before coming inside. She took the pitcher from Claire without a word and then left the room. When she returned she said, "My dear Claeo, you have the most bizarre luck. Do you realize that Pippin and Gandalf are literally in the room right next to us?"

Claire was already lying face down on her bed in disgust. She gave an inarticulate moan in response.

"Oh the bright side, he didn't seem to remember the other timeline," Elrain said as she poured Claire a cup of water. "But on the other end…" she set down the pitcher with a _thump_ , "By all that is holy, did you tell him everything?"

"Not everything," Claire said as she removed her face from her pillow. "But they knocked me out and took my sword. The flood was coming and I had to get them to let me go so we could escape. So I explained who I was."

Elrain rubbed the bridge of her nose and grimaced. She sat down on her bed with a thump and a deep sigh of annoyance. After a moment she calmed and said, "Well...I suppose this softens the whole 'alternate timeline' situation. He knows about Morlyg which I suppose is helpful, but let's pray those events don't influence him negatively."

Through this whole exchange, Laemellon had been silently sitting on the couch near a window, no longer uncloaked but quite visible in the privacy of their room. She had taken off her silver headpiece and was staring at it in her hands. Elrain looked over at her and asked sarcastically, "Do you have anything to add to this disaster Laemellon?"

The vanaloke sat pensively for a moment fingering her headpiece gingerly in her hands.

"I think," she said slowly. "I think I know a way we can find Morlyg."


	28. The Calling Stone

**The Calling Stone**

When Pippin entered his and Gandalf's lodging it was dark, save for a little lantern set on the table. Gandalf was not there. The odd encounter with Claeo and her elf friend Elrain had been both encouraging and unsettling. Encouraging because he had felt slightly guilty about Claeo getting swept away by the flood and seeing her alive made him feel that much better. Yet he was unsettled by the encounter for a reason he could not put his finger on. Claeo was a strange girl, being so young yet possessing some kind of wizardry he couldn't explain. He also couldn't explain the strange devilish shape-shifting woman who seemed to pop up every now and then when the young girl was around.

He felt the need to set things right between himself and Claeo. Like many of the people he and the other hobbits had met, Claeo was an ally, someone who could help in a pinch if there was trouble. A few moments ago when they had met again, he got the feeling that she was trying to avoid him. Could this be because of how he had treated her at Isengard? He had considered her a friend, but was that still true?

He wished that Gandalf was there so that he had someone to talk to and looking around the empty room, gloom settled heavily upon him. He climbed the bench and tried to peer out of a window in their room. All was black outside, like staring into a pool of ink. He got down, closed the shutter, and then climbed into bed. For a while he lay and listened for Gandalf's return, but soon sleep overtook him.*

* * *

Claire and Elrain sat in rapt attention as Laemellon turned her silver head piece over so that the inside of the crown-like accessory was facing upward. Behind the metal part that was usually pressed against her forehead, were two translucent stones, one green and one blue. She delicately wedged the green one out of its casing and held it up between her thumb and forefinger. It was about the size of a penny and it threw strange reflections on the wall when the candle light hit it.

"This is a vanaloki calling stone," she said. "When my people are trained in the art of aerial combat, we are given two of them and they are linked with our minds. My people are quite skilled in the art of communicating through one's mind and these stones amplify that ability. The blue stone set into my head piece is what we call the 'head-stone' and this," she gestured to the stone in her hand, "Is the 'companion stone'. If you were a vanaloke and we were going to be flying side by side in a large group, we would exchange companion stones and thus link minds in the midst of flight. When all vanaloki are sharing calling stones, they are able to fly as one mind like a school of fish but in the air."

"That's incredible," Elrain said. "So you share a mind...what does that entail?"

"Thoughts mostly, yet only the thoughts you wish to share. The vanaloki value privacy. However strong emotion can be a gateway to share more if you are not careful."

Laemellon turned to Claire and held the green stone out to her. Claire took it hesitantly.

"When I was young, I had a friend who was older than me who had just joined the vanaloki army. She was learning to fly in formation and had been given two calling stones just like I have now. Out of sheer curiosity, we tried to see what would happen if you didn't have two other stones to help your companion. In other words, I took her companion stone and we tried to share a mind. The result was that we could communicate, but sight was an issue. You see, normally when vanaloki share a mind with calling stones, we see at once, both using the other's eyes. It's a strange sensation that would take too long to explain fully. Whoever holds the companion stone can see what the other sees, but it does not go the other way."

Claire's mouth parted as she began to see what Laemellon was getting at.

"You are not a vanaloke," Laemellon said to Claire. "So this may not work. But if it does, I will be able to scout out the city and you will be able to see what I see and we will be able to communicate with each other if an emergency arises."

Claire looked at the small green stone in her hands and wondered at the possibility. Laemellon took Claire's hand and pressed the stone in the center of her palm and then pushed her fingers to wrap around it.

"It only has to be touching skin, but for testing purposes, hold it tight like this."

Laemellon returned her head piece to her brow and hooked the chains in the rings set into her horns. After a few adjustments, she sat back on the couch and placed her hands on her knees. Her long horse-like face was pointed straight at Claire and her eyes focused hard.

"Now you must open your mind. It's an odd concept to grasp. In training they taught us to simply think the word 'open' if we had trouble. So open your mind and I'll see if this works."

Claire sat straight backed on the bed and shut her eyes. Elrain watched as the young girl uttered, "My mind is open."

Laemellon took a deep breath. For a moment Claire wondered if it hadn't worked. Awkward silence filled the room.

"Can you hear me?" came the voice of Laemellon in her head. Claire nearly jumped up from the bed.

"Whoah!" she exclaimed. "I heard you! You said 'Can you hear me?' right?"

Laemellon nodded excitedly. "Now," the vanaloke said, "Let's test sight."

Claire was excited and now sat on the edge of the bed in anticipation, the calling stone gripped tightly in the palm of her hand.

"This will be strange," Laemellon said holding her hands up in a consoling manner. "The first time I experienced it, I ran into a wall. Make sure you stay seated."

Before Claire had time to wonder why she had to sit for this, she suddenly saw _herself_. For a moment she thought she was looking in a mirror, but then she moved and saw that everything was flipped. She was looking through Laemellon's eyes at herself and she laughed at the stupid expression on her face. The vanaloke turned her head and looked at Elrain. Claire thought she might fall over and gripped the post of the bed.

"It can make you dizzy at first," the vanaloke remarked.

"No kidding," Claire retorted trying not to fall over. She could feel her body of course, but her vision was in Laemellon's head. The disconnect was fascinating and jarring to say the least.

Then Claire had an idea.

"Hold on. Let me try something." Claire willed her eyes to use _the sight_ and the view through the vanaloke's eyes shifted. Laemellon fell backwards in surprise, her right wing flailing out and nearly catching Elrain in the face.

"By all the Valar!" she cried. "Is...is this what you see when your eyes are burning?"

"It is indeed," Claire said beaming. Laemellon looked back at her and Claire was able to see what she herself looked like with _the sight._ Her entire form was glowing bright blue and her eyes were bright and burning with the same blue glow. She laughed in spite of herself.

"This is perfect!" the young girl declared. "Now not only can I see what you see, but we can find Morlyg that much easier now. This is great! Tomorrow we have to take this for a spin." She pulled her mind away from Laemellon's and said as she blinked with her own eyes, "It's like a telepathic walkie-talkie."

"Walkie-talkie?" Elrain asked with a critical eye.

"An electronic communication device that uses radio frequencies to talk to people over long distances."

Elrain raised her eyebrows in bemusement.

"Television," Claire commented.

Elrain's gaze narrowed playfully. "Well you'll have plenty of time to try it out. I don't imagine much happening tomorrow."

The words of Elrain pushed the previous timeline to Claire's memory and it seemed to jostle her more than seeing herself through another pair of eyes. The elf noticed her strange reaction.

"You alright?"

"Yeah," Claire said staring at the floor. "It's just that I remember this night the last time I was here. Tomorrow Faramir is supposed to get here. Last time it didn't go so well." She looked up anxiously at Elrain and Laemellon.

"Let's hope that you are right Elrain," Claire said. "Let's hope nothing happens tomorrow.

* * *

The next morning the three of them were up bright an early, though it was hard to tell what time it was. The sky was dark with clouds and a heaviness seemed to weigh on the outside world. Claire knew this wasn't the case, but in any other situation she would have suspected tornado weather.

After breakfast Laemellon and Claire began to plan how they would use the calling stones to coordinate a search of the city. Elrain sat upon her bed sharpening her sword while the two of them spoke.

As Elrain ran the wet stone along her blade, she thought she heard a soft knock at the door. She glanced at her two companions and saw that they hadn't noticed. Elrain set her sword down, got up, and opened the door. There was no one there, but when she looked down, she saw a small slip of paper on the floor outside their door. As she stooped to pick it up, Claire noticed.

"What's that?" the young girl asked as Elrain came back in with the slip of paper in her hand.

The elf opened it and read the contents. Her face was flat and emotionless as she said, "Nothing. Just a note." With that Elrain returned to sharpening her sword while the vanaloke and the young human continued to plan out the day.

As noon approached, Laemellon made her way to the throne room under the direction of Claire. The young girl found it better if she laid down while looking through the vanaloke's eyes. The sensation still made her very dizzy. It amazed Claire that a creature with huge wings and a long tail could slip around people unseen so easily. Luckily Claire remembered the way into the throneroom via the kitchen and as Laemellon stole along the edge of the wall, Claire spotted the disagreeable woman who was the head of the Citadel kitchen. The woman who Claire, in a previous timeline, had kicked in the shin.

"You remember her?" Laemellon asked telepathically as she snuck past the woman.

"How did you know that?"

"I could feel your emotional response to her. Remember what I said about emotions opening your mind more? I saw one of your memories. Did you...did you kick her in the shin?"

Laemellon couldn't see her expression, but if she could have, she would have seen Claire wince in embarrassment. "Yeah. I did. It was an emergency though so I felt justified."

She felt Laemellon chuckle a bit. The mind connection was fascinating to Claire but now she felt a little uneasy. If she got too emotional then the vanaloke might be able to see her memories. It wasn't as paramount as with Pippin or Losswen, but Claire didn't like the idea of burdening her friend with the memories of the past timeline. She would have to work hard to keep her emotions in check as much as she could.

As Laemellon entered the throne room and positioned herself against a shadowed section of the wall, Claire saw Denethor sitting in his chair with Pippin standing beside him. The hobbit was dressed in the black and silver of the Citadel Guard. He was standing quite awkwardly next to the old Steward's chair, his right hand resting casually on his sword hilt and his left hanging loosely at his side. This was obviously his first day and he looked extremely bored.

Presently Denethor spoke and Peregrin left. Claire was surprised that she could hear nothing. Apparently the calling stones only dealt in thought and sight, not sounds and other senses.

"What did he just tell him?" Claire asked.

"The old man said that Pippin was released from service until called for. Is that supposed to happen?"

"I think so," she replied. "I just heard the bells ring for Eleven o'clock. I think we're good, but if you don't mind, would you follow Pippin?"

"As you wish," Laemellon said as she began to slip out of the back. The vanaloke sprang into the air and circled high above. This was indeed a bird's eye view of the city and Claire was enjoying every minute of it. At last the vanaloke spotted Pippin making his way to the mess hall. Laemellon chuckled. "He _would_ be looking for food after such a dull morning," the vanloke remarked.

Claire released her mind from Laemellon's for a few minutes. The vanaloke had agreed to keep an eye on Pippin for the rest of the afternoon and alert her if anything strange happened. Meanwhile, Claire was trying to figure out a way to "wear" the calling stone. She at last settled on placing it on her right forearm above her wrist and then wrapping a cloth tightly around it. This way her hands would be free but the stone would be touching her skin at all times so that Laemellon could contact her.

She stood up and stretched for a bit and then went for a walk. Going back out into the courtyard, she spied the white tree at its center. The dead trunk and limbs sat dejectedly under the dark grey sky and she felt a chill. Yesterday had been bright and sunny for the most part, but today, as she stood on the edge overlooking the city, it didn't feel as epic as before.

Evening was drawing close and Claire knew that over the plain below, Faramir would soon be riding with winged Nazgul on his tail. She hurried back inside, laid down on the bed, and closed her eyes.

"Anything happening?" she asked reaching out to her vanaloke friend.

Laemellon's reply was quick. "The halfling and the soldier are sitting and talking together. Nothing seems out of the ordinary." As she said this, Claire saw through the vanaloke's eyes Peregrin and Beregond sitting together having a chat on the embrasure looking eastward.

"Well get ready. You may want to find some cover soon. If all goes well, Faramir is on his way and he will be followed by the Nazgul."

"The Nazul? What are they?"

"Things you don't want to deal with." Had she not told Laemellon about the Nazgul yet? She really needed to do a better job of filling her friend in on things. "They strike fear into the hearts of everyone they are near. They will attack Faramir and his men as they return, but Gandalf will ride out and help them. Then they will come up into the city and meet with Denethor. Pippin will go to meet them at the gate of the Citadel. Follow him and keep an eye on their exchange."

No sooner had Claire spoken of this event, a dark fear fell upon Laemellon. Claire couldn't feel it in her mind, but the Vanaloke's view jerked and shot upward. A large dark shape wheeled overhead and Laemellon began to move very quickly.

Finding a safe hiding spot, the vanaloke peered down into the plain and saw the whole thing. As Claire watched through her eyes, she was amazed to witness what she had only read about. The close and nearly fatal attack of the winged Nazgul, the epic nature of Gandalf's ride out from the gate, and the victorious entry of Faramir and the wizard into the city.

Laemellon pulled herself from her hiding place and looking down at her hands, Claire saw that she was trembling.

"You ok?"

"Yes," Laemellon said shakily. "You were right about them imbuing fear. I - I am glad they have gone."

The vanaloke followed Pippin and Beregond as they went to meet with Faramir and as they met in Denethor's private chamber, Claire watched intently as the scene played out. In a way it was like watching a stage play, yet it was more like a documentary. As each person talked, the cloaked vanaloke standing nearby would turn and look at them.

When the exchange was over, Gandalf and Pippin returned to their room and Laemellon followed. As the wizard and hobbit entered their lodging, Claire pulled her mind away from the vanaloke and got up from the bed. She felt stiff and realized that she had been laying down looking through her friend's eyes for at least three or four hours. Opening the door the cloaked vanaloke entered, only a dim shadow cast against the wall indicated her presence.

There was a _thump_ as she sat down on the couch and presently she materialized. She looked exhausted.

"Well done," Claire said sitting back down on her bed. "We made it past where everything went wrong. At least we know that Morlyg won't try the same thing twice." She reached for a paper that was lying on the table nearby and examined the timeline she had jotted down. "After today we get two days of pretty much nothing and then on the 13th things really start to ramp up."

Laemellon rubbed her eyes. "Claeo, do you think that perhaps we should focus on finding Morlyg? Looking after that halfling is convenient, but it is incredibly tedious. Perhaps tonight we can try your plan?"

Claire made a note on the timeline and then said, "I suppose tonight is as good as any night. Are you sure you're up to it?"

Laemellon craned her neck and fixed Claire with one of her large purple eyes. "If it means I don't have to experience the tedious hours that Pippin is forced to bear, then yes."

At that moment, Elrain returned to the room. Claire looked up and gave a cheery, "Welcome back. Where have you been all day?"

Elrain didn't remove her cloak but instead retrieved a lantern from a nearby table. "I was scouting out the city," she said casually. "I figured it would be a good way to pass the time."

"Did you ever find out what that note was," Claire asked just now remembering it. Following Laemellon's day had driven it from her mind until now.

Elrain didn't look up but simply added, "I did. It was nothing. The staff from the kitchen were asking about the extra food we've been eating. I went down there today and made a good excuse for our third friend here." She nodded to Laemellon and smiled. "Don't worry. I'm pretty sure they believed me."

Before Claire and Laemellon could ask anything else, Elrain was out the door and disappeared down the hallway.

"I suppose she is going to scout out the city in the dark," Laemellon commented, a hint of suspicion in her voice.

Claire was curious too. She could sense that Elrain had been hiding something since the day she had punched Morlyg in the face and rejoined their quest. Something about why she had left Lothlorien didn't feel right. She had promised the Lady Galadriel that she would remain there and it seemed very unlike her to break such an oath.

Claire pushed the thoughts aside and said, "Well we are about to do the same." She smiled excitedly and added. "Ready?"

Laemellon stood and stretched her wings to their full length. The tips of them nearly spanned the entire room.

"Ready as I'll ever be."

* * *

*Selections taken from _The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King, Chapter 1: Minas Tirith._


	29. The Door

**The Door**

As the city settled into the deepening dark of night, Laemellon crawled along the edge of a rooftop. The lights in the city were going out one by one following an order that all exterior lights be extinguished after dark. The vanaloke balanced on all fours like a huge cat, her tail whipping back and forth to steady her and her wings drawn tightly in. Vanaloki could see extremely well in the dark, but with Claire using _the sight_ and looking through her eyes, it was as good as daylight to her.

Laemellon peered through the misty ghost world before her, straining to see any sign of the fallen Maia. Morlyg was most certainly in the city but she had done a good job of staying out of their way thus far. Laemellon lept from one rooftop to another, her wings cushioning the fall. She was now on the third level of the city following a random pattern of search. They had surmised that if Morlyg somehow spotted them looking for her, she might try to see if they were following a set course and evade them.

"You're like a ninja," Claire remarked in her mind.

"A what?" Laemellon said back.

"They're ah...warriors in my world. Very good at sneaking around on rooftops."

"I see," the vanaloke answered flatly. She had gathered through conversation and circumstance that Claire was from another world, but she hadn't pressed her on any details. To Laemellon it was odd and curious but unimportant to their mission.

"Hold on," Claire said as the vanaloke looked down into the street. "Look to your left."

Laemellon turned. Down below a person was stepping out of their front door. It was a young woman with her brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. She reached up and put out the lantern that hung above the door. Then she quickly ducked back inside, shutting the door with a click and a bolt.

As Claire looked through Laemellon's eyes, she couldn't help feeling sad at the sight of Losswen. She had gained a friend and then lost her due to her mistakes. In fact she had probably lost two friendships because of what she had done and regret filled her heart.

"You know this woman?" Laemellon asked.

"I did," Claire answered solemnly. "In the old timeline." She was doing her best not to get emotional about it and have Laemellon share in her bad memories.

"Her roof needs repairing **."**

"Ha, yeah it does. Hopefully when this is all over she can get it fixed."

All the lights in the street had gone out now. Indeed the entire city had gone dark and there were no stars or moon. The surrounding area was covered in inky black darkness.

Something flashed in the corner of the vanaloke's eye and both Claire and Laemellon said, "What's that?" in each other's minds. Laemellon began to crawl along a nearby wall, low and slowly like a wary lizard. Looking over the edge she saw a bright figure not 10 yards away. It was walking slowly up into the city. Laemellon shuddered at the ghostly apparition. Claire however could feel adrenaline pumping in her veins.

"It's her! It's Morlyg," the young girl cried in the vanaloke's mind. "Be careful. Follow her as close as you can, but don't let her see you. Flee if you must. I'll come help you."

"No," the vanaloke said sharply. "If you do, I won't be able to use _the sight_ and I'll lose her."

Claire hated the idea of letting her go on alone, but they had no choice. "Ok," she said at last. "But be careful. I don't know what the circumstances were before when…"

"When she killed me before," Laemellon said quickly finishing Claire's statement. "I am well aware of that. You should know that such knowledge troubles me deeply."

"I'm sorry," Claire said regretfully. "I wasn't a good friend to you then. I suppose there are some things you can't fix even with time travel." She sighed. "I was an idiot in my own world and in this one I suppose. It seems I messed up every relationship I had before the jump."

"Stop feeling sorry for yourself," Laemellon chided. "You did the best you could. I take no hurt at what you did. And you haven't ruined every friendship. I am still your friend and you and the halfling are on decent terms."

"But if he ever remembers we won't be. He couldn't forgive me before. Why would he forgive me now?"

Laemellon was too distracted to answer. She was jumping from roof to roof following the shining figure. Morlyg could clearly be seen now, her bright wraith-like form sauntering slowly through the city. Minutes passed and Laemellon kept up a good pace with Morlyg until at last the demon came to a halt at the gates of the Citadel. Claire thought that she might even be able to see her postion from their window in the guest house, but she didn't dare open the shutter.

"She's just standing there," Laemellon said. "What is she doing?"

Morlyg stood still as a statue staring at the gate. Laemellon dared creep a bit closer. She wanted to see her face, to see what kind of expression she had that might reveal her demeanor. The vanaloke was perched at least 10 feet up and 30 feet away from Morlyg. She could see her profile as the fallen maia stared intently at the gate. The demon's eyes were wide as if she was trying to burn through the wood with her gaze.

Suddenly and without warning, Morlyg turned and looked straight at the Laemellon. Viewing her through _the sight_ , her face was hideous and twisted and she grinned with a hideous mouth full of razor sharp teeth.

Laemellon was so surprised and terrified that she nearly fell back off of the roof. She tore at the shingles trying to keep a hold as Claire screamed in her head "Get out! Get out of there! Fly!"

Morlyg didn't move, but she continued to leer at Laemellon and that was enough for the vanaloke. With a single flap of her wings, she shot up high into the air. Claire saw the city wheeling beneath and then solid grey nothingness enveloped her view. Then with a reveal that made Claire gasp, Laemellon soared out of the low cloud cover and into clear night sky.

Claire willed _the sight_ to cease. The stars looked more beautiful without it. The night sky was a deep blue black and the moon hung high above. Claire felt a tear fall from her eye as Laemellon flew in a wide circle trying to stay above the city.

"It is beautiful isn't it," the vanaloke said solemnly, her heart beginning to slow from the the panic from moments earlier.

"It is," Claire said and then pulled herself away from the moment to add, "But Morlyg is still down there."

"What do you want me to do?"

Claire thought hard for a moment. "Can you land somewhere high up so she won't spot you and see if she is still at the gate of the Citadel?"

Laemellon answered in the affirmative. Claire used _the sight_ again as the vanaloke descended down through the clouds. She landed on a roof and Claire jumped as she heard a thunk above her.

"Are you on our roof?"

"I suppose I am," Lamellon said looking around. She crawled to the edge and peered down at the area in front of the gate.

Morlyg was gone.

* * *

On the northern side of the city, Elrain lowered a rope ladder down the side of the outermost wall. It was dark and anyone who wasn't a Realm Jumper wouldn't be able to see her making her way down the side. Coming at last to the bottom, she looked around at the area surrounding her. She was at the foot of the outermost wall where the City met the mountain. A patch of forest skirted the mountain's edge and continued on north west for at least a few miles.

She waited, standing still as a stone. The message she had gotten had been clear enough. "Where the outer wall meets the mountain. North side. After dark. Important. - Beryl," it had said. The last word was a name she recognized. About three missions ago, she had worked with another Realm Jumper who went by the name Beryl. Their mission had been in a very tech heavy world, complete with interstellar travel. Because of this, Beryl hadn't needed to change her appearance since there were countless alien races in that realm and she wouldn't stand out from anyone no matter what she looked like. Beryl's home world was very similar which was why she had been assigned to that mission. Beryl herself was not entirely humanoid. Her people were birdlike with large beaks, crooked legs, and bright blue feathers. They were also excellent mechanics and had a knack for repairing starship engines. It was an odd combination, but it was what it was.

Elrain peered into the darkness looking for her old friend and wondered what would bring her to Middle-earth. In a few moments, she saw a shining figure coming toward her in the gloom. The figure had a single candle in their hand and as they approached, Elrain willed _the sight_ to cease. In the gathering dark, the light of the candle seemed to struggle, yet that didn't stop it from illuminating its bearer's face.

"Beryl?" Elrain asked surprised. "Is that really you?"

The figure nodded. Since Middle-earth didn't have any bird-like people, Beryl had obviously had to take on a form very different from how she normally looked.

"It is," she said with a sigh. Beryl was human, her ears gave that away immediately. She was short with blond curly hair that fell loosely around her face. She was clad in a simple grey dress with a satchel hung across her shoulder.

Elrain laughed and said, "Well look at you! You look ridiculous."

"Don't I," Beryl laughed. "I've taken on a few forms in this job, but never have I had to put up with this. How do you manage?"

"My people were very much like humans in all but proportion and life span, but I can imagine it was quite a change to go from feathers to...to this." Elrain laughed again as Beryl gave her an annoyed look.

"I didn't come here for you to make fun of me. I came to bring you a message amongst other things. Can we get on with it so I can leave here and get my beak back." She rubbed her mouth absent mindedly.

"Of course," Elrain said. "What is your message?"

"Well first things first. Come with me." Beryl motioned for Elrain to follow her into the forest at the mountain's edge. As Elrain followed Beryl, the shorter Realm Jumper asked, "Are you aware of the incredibly large temporal anomaly that this realm experienced recently?"

Elrain stepped over a fallen log and sighed, "Yes, I'm afraid I am. There is another Realm Jumper here. She's very new at this and for some reason the Maker gave her a time traveling realm spell. She used it despite my council to the contrary."

"Well the Maker can be rather odd sometimes. Like when he sends someone like me to a world full of flesh faces."

"Watch your language," Elrain retorted playfully. "But you are right. The whole experience so far has been odd to say the least. How did you know there was an anomaly?"

Beryl hesitated and walked ahead of Elrain a bit. "Oh you know me. I always know stuff like that. What is her name? This problem Realm Jumper of yours? Is it 'Venë Faeur'?"

"Yes it is," Elrain said surprised. "Did the Maker tell you that or did you read the prophecy."

"Neither," Beryl said casually. "That's why I asked you to come here."

Elrain began to question further, but she stopped when she saw where they were. They had reached their destination apparently. It was a tall section of rock at the foot of the mountain. Nothing strange or eye catching, just a bit flatter than most. As Elrain looked at the surface more closely, she saw small bits of stone jutting out of the surface at random places. Beryl walked up to the rocky surface, placed the candle just below the tall section of rock, and stepped back next to Elrain. The light from the candle shone upwards and the elf gasped when she saw the shadows of the bits of jutting stone form the indications of letters.

"You can only read this with a light placed like that," Beryl said. "The trees around here have shaded it so that no one would ever know about it unless they knew it was here. Even the sun wouldn't show it."

Elrain was amazed. As she stared at the letters she recognized the alphabet. "This is a form of elvish," she said at last. "It's very old, but give me a few minutes and I can translate."

"No need," Beryl said reaching into her bag. "I used a translation radiometer on it this morning after I left you the note." She pulled a small electronic device from her satchel and flipped it open. The device buzzed to life and the screen illuminated her face with a dull green glow."

"You used what!?" Elrain nearly yelled. "How could you…?"

"Oh come now, Elrain," Beryl said cutting her off. "You know I can't go anywhere without tech. It will be fine. I won't give it to anyone and I'm sure that even if they got a hold of it, the people here would think it was magic and smash it with a hammer or throw it in a volcano."

Elrain suppressed her frustration as much as she could and said, "That's ridiculous. The people of this world are quite shrewd. You are very unwise to bring tech here."

Beryl waved her off and invited her to look at the readout on the device. "Here is what it says. This make any sense to you?"

In the common tongue the inscription read as follows:

 _Two doors, two trees, two houses._

 _The perfect words from the first book are the key._

 _The Venë Faeur shall enter._

"Well I recognize 'Venë Faeur'," Elrain said studying the text. "But what is all this about doors, trees, and houses?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Beryl said. "But I ran another analysis on this and found out something interesting."

She paused bringing up a different scan from before.

"It's not just a wall of stone. It's a door."

Elrain grimaced in confusion. "A door? Where does it lead?"

"Well that's another interesting thing," Beryl said. "I ran a trionic wave scan on what is behind and it's actually two tunnels. Yeah...two options. That caught my eye. Seems to be a theme here. There isn't much I can say for sure, but I can tell you this. One of those tunnels comes out in the city somewhere."

"How does no one know about this?" Elrain asked looking back at the candle lit stone.

"How do you know they don't?"

"Well, because I'm fairly sure they would. It's a bit of a hole in their defenses if you ask me. If you could open it, it might be a way to sneak into the city unnoticed."

Beryl scratched her mouth thoughtfully. "Well I hate to add one more thing to the mystery, but there is more and this is the big one. I knew there was a temporal anomaly because I ran a tachyon scan on the door too. Something told me it would yield some kind of data and boy did it."

Beryl looked up from her device and fixed Elrain with a serious gaze. "This door is protected with some kind of temporal shielding."

Elrain took a step back, her mouth going dry. "What?" she breathed incredulously.

"Yeah," Beryl said examining the data on her device again. "Your young friend traveled in time and reset things right? Everything was atomized and reconstituted?"

Elrain thought back to the experience and nodded solemnly.

"Well whatever is on the other side of this door never changed. It was the only thing in this world not to be reset."

Elrain stared at the door in amazement. Why would such a thing exist and who would put this here? And on top of that, what lay on the other side that was so important that it would need temporal shielding?

"I said there were two hallways, but that's just up close," Beryl said. "Further inside the mountain or under the city there could be vast caverns...anything really. And considering that your young friend's name is on there, I'd say that whatever is in there has something to do with her."

Elrain walked up to the wall and placed her hand on it. The surface felt normal and, like most dwarf doors in this realm, it showed no seam or latch of any kind. This was indeed a new mystery.

"Well," she said at last turning back to Beryl. "What should be done?"

"Nothing so far as I can tell. You could tell your friend about it, but I would advise against it. This may be considered meddling in events."

Elrain smiled regretfully. "You say that because you used your device? I told you that's why I don't bring tech into worlds like this."

Beryl shrugged. "I say leave it up to the Maker. His timing is always best."

"Fine," Elrain said firmly. She was glad to see her friend again, even in her strange form, yet this new mystery had only served to increase her frustration. She wanted to go back to the city and forget about this strange door. "Was there anything else you needed to tell me?"

Beryl shut her device slowly and Elrain could see anxiety spreading across her face.

"There...there is one more thing. You just need to be aware of it. Not that you have to do anything. The other Realm Jumpers are spreading the word and they told me to make sure you know."

"What is it?"

"A group of Realm Jumpers have discovered an- an aberattor."

The very word sent a chill up Elrain's spine. She had heard of the concept of an aberrator before, but to her knowledge there had only been one in all of Realm Jumper history. Aberattors were what they called a rogue Realm Jumper, someone who was traveling between worlds with ill intent. Because they were not officially called to do so and they often disregarded rules set down through the ages, they accidentally jumped around in time causing aberrations and thus the name. The only known and recorded aberattor had been an individual who had stolen a Realm Jumper ring from its owner. The ensuing chaos had taken millennia to clean up, and had resulted in countless aberrations that had to be repaired. It was the equivalent of throwing a time traveling needle into a city sized haystack and then trying to find it with one foot glued to the floor. It was a nigh on impossible task.

"Where were they last seen?" Elrain asked weakly.

"Incidentally Catrel," Beryl said. "I knew you were there recently so I thought I'd ask."

"I don't remember seeing anyone," Elrain said regretfully.

"We didn't think so," Beryl said as she retrieved the candle. "We just wanted to make you aware incase you happen to spot him."

Elrain nodded. "I'll keep my eyes open."

The two friends exchanged goodbyes. As Elrain began to walk away back to the city, Beryl called after her.

"Oh Elrain! There is one more thing I forgot to mention about the aberrator. And it's pretty important."

The elf turned and looked back. Beryl had always been an absent minded genius so this was no surprise.

"He has a box," Beryl said. "A little wooden box with writing on top of it. They say that he travels between worlds by using something inside of it. I know it doesn't make sense but everyone who has encountered him has the same story."

And with that final word, Beryl slipped on her ring and vanished.


	30. The Reminder

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **13** Frodo captured by the orcs of Cirith Ungol. The Pelennor is overrun. Faramir is wounded. Aragorn reaches Pelargir and captures the fleet. Theoden in Druadan Forest.

 **14** Samwise finds Frodo in the Tower. Minas Tirith besieged. The Rohirrim led by the Wild Men come to the Grey Wood.

 **15** In the early hours the Witch-king breaks the Gate of the City. Denethor burns himself on a pyre. The horns of the Rohirrim are heard at cockcrow. Battle of the Pelennor. Theoden is slain. Aragorn raises the standard of Arwen. Frodo and Samwise escape and begin their journey north along the Morgai. Battle under the trees in Mirkwood; Thranduil repels the forces of Dol Guldur. Second assault on Lorien.

 **_ . _**

 **The Reminder**

The following two days were uneventful for Laemellon, Claire, and Elrain. Though the city was abuzz with the dread of the coming siege, the three companions developed a routine that suited them nicely. With confirmation that Morlyg was in the city, it was decided that none of them would go out on any more "scouting" missions. Pippin quite literally slept in the room next to them and it seemed from their encounter on the night of the 10th that Morlyg couldn't enter the Citadel. Why this was so, none of them could be sure.

On the 13th of March things began to get more serious. That morning, Claire heard that fires could be seen on the edge of the Pelennor. Having stayed inside for the most part for the past two days, she again dared to venture out onto the vast pier. There were other people there too, most of them servants and officials of the City wanting to see the same thing she was. As Claire leaned against the stone wall of the overlook, she didn't notice the short individual that stood next to her until it was too late.

"Hello Claeo," Peregrin said as he looked out onto the plains with her.

Claire tried to hide her apprehension at his presence. "Oh. Hello Pippin," she said haltingly.

"I get the feeling you have been avoiding me. I was told that you and your friend are staying in the Citadel and yet I never see you."

Claire was silent. She wasn't sure how to respond.

The hobbit looked up at her with a caring expression. "I understand why."

"You do?" Claire asked. Was this it? Did he remember?

"Yes. I need to apologize to you for what happened in Isengard."

Claire exhaled, relief washing over her.

"I should have listened to you when you said you weren't a spy," the hobbit said. "Merry and I...we went through a lot. I was angry at you for what you did at the falls and I thought that if you were a spy, I would be justified. But I was wrong. Please forgive me."

Claire smiled and said, "That's alright, Pippin. I forgive you."

Oh the irony. Here he was apologizing to her, asking her forgiveness, and yet in the Wood he had refused to forgive her. The comparison wasn't fair though. He had merely not trusted her. She on the other hand had gotten his cousin killed, an act which very likely had altered the course of his entire life. Looking down at him, Claire prayed that he would never remember what she had done. She wanted to be on good terms with her favorite character.

Looking back out at the edge of the Pelennor, Claire said, "You know Pippin, you remind me of my cousin Fred. The one who taught me to play chess."

"Really?" he said. "It can't be for my chess skills. Your cousin Fred did a terrible job of teaching you how to play if _your_ skill is any indication."

Claire chuckled. "Yeah, well that isn't why. You remind me of him because he is a very optimistic person. I appreciate that about you Pippin. Even on the 'edge of ruin' as Gandalf put it, you still have hope. I think I could learn a lot from you. You aren't a fool no matter what people may say."

Peregrin smiled and arched an eyebrow. "Thank you...I suppose. And I appreciate you as well, even if you are very strange."

Claire smirked. "Thank you...I suppose."

The two friends laughed and at that moment Claire felt a great weight lifted off of her shoulders. Despite all she had messed up, she and Pippin were on good terms again and more than anything she wanted to keep it that way.

* * *

All that morning fires sprang up in the distance on the edge of the Pelennor. Companies of men from the outer villages were retreating to the city. Later that day Gandalf returned from Osgiliath with word that Faramir would be close behind. As one last group of wounded soldiers approached the city with the Nazgul hot on their heels, a sortie was released. Gandalf went out as he had when Faramir arrived before and the Nazgul and servants of the enemy shrank back. Faramir had at last arrived again, yet his arrival was not encouraging. His own men bore him into the city badly wounded.

Of course this drove Denethor mad and for the rest of the day and the next he grieved for his son. Pippin was called back into the throne room and made to endure Denethor's mourning. Laemellon said that she didn't envy the halfling after she had gone to check on him. All that same time the armies of Mordor drew closer. They had breached the outer wall and were now filling up the plain in front of the city like a black oil slick.

The clouds were thick above and all of Minas Tirith was dark even at noon. The army was pressing against the wall now, hurling fiery projectiles into the city. As day passed into night, the siege was fully on and the first circle of the city was burning.

Elrain, Claire, and Laemellon had stayed in the Citadel ever since the gates had been shut. Yet as the night deepened, that all changed. Elrain announced that she would lend her sword to the guarding of the second gate and went off before anyone could stop her. Claire instructed Laemellon to watch over Peregrin from this point on. The young girl checked the wrapping around her wrist making sure the calling stone was pressed tight against her skin.

"Don't take your eyes off of him," Claire said as Laemellon prepared to go. "Soon he will be away from anyone who might keep Morlyg from getting at him."

As Laemellon left, Claire had the strange feeling that a conflict was coming. Conflict was thick in the air anyway; the city was under attack. She tightened the pauldrons that Laemellon had given her. She had worn them all this time and had almost forgotten their origin. She adjusted her belt around her waist, her sword securely at her side. Sitting in their room Claire waited patiently. She was ready for whatever was coming next.

"Peregrin is leaving Denethor," came the vanaloke's voice in her head.

"That's supposed to happen," Claire replied. "Let me see."

At once she saw through Laemellon's eyes. The vanaloke was actually in the same place she had been a few nights before, perched on top of their roof. Claire broke her gaze away and opened the window. She looked up and saw Laemellon peering down at her from above. Looking back down at the gate of the Citadel, Claire could see Pippin talking with Beregond. Just for the heck of it, she willed her eyes to shift and she surveyed the surrounding area for any sign of Morlyg. The demon was nowhere to be seen. Pippin finished speaking with Beregond and then took off at a run.

"Follow him," Claire called up to Laemellon. "And let me know if you spot anything."

The vanaloke sprang from the roof and glided after the hobbit. With the noise of the battle below, there was no danger of him hearing her wings flap above him.

Claire settled back down on the couch. She hated waiting and waiting for the unknown was even worse. She wondered if any of this was the way it was supposed to be. Claire longed for the voice of Eru. They hadn't talked in a while and His guidance would be invaluable in a situation like this. She had tried to talk to him two days ago with the calling stone pressed on her skin and had accidentally spoken to Laemellon. That had been awkward.

She pulled at the wrapping around her wrist and lifted the stone from her skin.

"Am I doing the right thing?" she asked. "Is this what I'm supposed to do?"

 _You have done what I have called you to,_ came the answer. _No matter what happens, remember that I am able to work all things for good._

The words were comforting. Claire closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She place the calling stone back on her wrist and wrapped it again.

"-ERE! SHE'S HERE! CLAEO!"

Claire stood up in a panic. Laemellon was screaming in her mind. She burst from the room and began running down the hallway.

"What!? Say again Laemellon! What's happening?"

Laemellon switched Claire's vision to the vanaloke's eyes. Claire stumbled forward, landing in a heap on the floor. There was no way for Lamellion to know she wasn't ready for it so she couldn't fault her for that.

Through Laemellon's eyes she saw Peregrin running down into the city. Men passed him on all sides running the other way, but he didn't heed them. About 20 paces behind him strode a tall figure in a dark hooded cloak. Claire could tell by the person's gait and posture that it was Morlyg, she had seen her enough times to recognize it. But Morlyg was carrying something in her right hand, something large and indiscernible from a distance.

"Stay with him," Claire panted. "I'm on my way." She switched back to her own vision and jumped to her feet. She ran down through the interlocking hallways and passages until she came to the kitchen. It was empty as she ran through. No one was there to stop her this time as she began to stumble down the long back stairway that only the servants knew about.

"I'm on my way down," she said hurriedly. "Where is he? What level is he on?"

As Claire reached the bottom of the stair Laemellon replied, "He's on the south side of the fifth level."

Claire stumbled out onto the street. Her eyes were burning bright for all to see, but under the circumstances it didn't seem to matter. She was facing west and quickly spun around to face the east.

That was when it happened. As soon as she realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it.

* * *

Pippin was running as fast as he could down through the city. He had to get to Gandalf and stop Denethor from burning himself and his son alive. Men called to him as he ran, but he didn't stop for anything. At least until he saw _her_.

There she was, standing in the middle of the street. Claeo, with her sword drawn and her eyes burning. Those eyes reminded him of something. Had he been here before? He remembered running before and then seeing her in this same exact spot and with those same eyes.

Claeo looked down at him and then looked behind him, her face filled with fear. Pippin looked back and saw a figure coming toward them. She was shining...no, no she wasn't. That was…

The memory sounded in Peregrin's mind like a clap of thunder. He stopped and stared into space for a moment. How had he gotten here? When did he get back? How could he have forgotten? He looked back at Claeo and he knew that she remembered too. His brow furrowed as he stared up at the young girl. He remembered who she really was. He remembered how his cousin had been murdered in cold blood in front of him. He remembered where she had taken him.

He remembered everything.

"Claeo...What have you done?"

* * *

The look on Peregrin's face was unmistakeable and now there was no going back. Yet there would be time for regret later. Morlyg was coming and Pippin had to get to Gandalf.

"Run Peregrin!" Claire yelled stepping between the hobbit and the cloaked demon walking toward them. "Run and forget about me. Get to Gandalf! Save Faramir!"

The hobbit took off without a second look and disappeared down into the city.

Claire planted herself in the middle of the street. Laemellon was nowhere in sight, but Claire knew she couldn't be far. Yet what could the vanaloke do? This was Claire's fight and she was ready.

As Morlyg drew closer she pulled her hood back. She looked rough, yet still in woman form. She didn't smile this time. Her expression was grave and the scar that stretched across her face and down her neck didn't help.

"I'm done playing games," she said in a low growl. She raised the thing in her hand and Claire saw what it was.

It was the severed hand of a mountain troll, about the size of beach ball. It's fingers were dripping with black blood that oozed from the stump of a wrist that Morlyg gripped in her left hand. Claire thought she might puke, but composed herself. What was the demon planning to do with a severed troll hand?

Then Morlyg did something equally disgusting. She raised her right hand to her lips. The nails on her fingers were like long black claws. She licked the nail on her pointer finger and it came away dripping with saliva. She drew her nail along the skin of the severed troll hand and the cut oozed more black blood.

She dropped the hand on the stone street with a sickening thud. She loosed the belt round her waist which held her sword and pouch, and dropped it to the ground as well. There she stood, weaponless and open to attack.

But before Claire could rush forward, Morlyg changed. First her back bowed and then she began to grow and before Claire could register what was happening, the demon had changed into a huge hulking mountain troll. The beast picked up her belt and strapped it on, now quite a few notches looser.

"Oh crap," was all Claire could think.

The creature reached over and ripped a 7 foot long beam of wood off of a nearby house. The splintered and compromised structure nearly collapsed. Troll-Morlyg brandished the beam, stamped its feet aggressively, and charged. There was only one thing left to do.

Claire ran as fast as she could, the troll hot on her heels.

* * *

Losswen was extremely reluctant to leave her house to be destroyed by the armies of Mordor. Indeed when the first circle of the city had started burning, she had stayed while others fled. The enemy had quite a ways to go before they overtook the third level. But now as the gates of the city were about to break she knew it was finally time to leave.

Gathering a bag of her most prized possessions, a few books that had belonged to her father and a silver candlestick, she opened the front door. Stepping out onto the street she saw a few people still running past her house and up into the city.

Before she could join them, there suddenly came a crash from above. She looked up and beheld something that made her jaw drop. A warrior was jumping from rooftop to rooftop up above on the fourth level. The person had a flaming sword in one hand and their other hand was flaming too. Behind them a huge troll gave chase, tearing up buildings and rooftops in its wake and swinging a beam of wood nearly as thick as its arms. People fled in terror as the huge creature lunged and reached for the flame wielding person with a huge gnarled hand. Suddenly the warrior jumped, twirling and swinging its sword, catching the outstretched hand of the troll in the nick of time. The creature bellowed in pain and plowed into a structure, pushing stones down from the outerwall. Rock and masonry rained down and Losswen ducked inside the door of her house to avoid it.

Losswen looked out again just in time to see the warrior spring from the roof of the house opposite hers, land on a cloth awning on the building directly below, and then tumble onto the street in front of her. When Losswen saw the person's face, she was awestricken.

"Ms. Claeo?" she said, astonished at the young girl's arrival. Claeo looked tired and nearly spent. The young girl looked up suddenly, just in time to see the huge troll come crashing down after her. The creature shook the stones beneath their feet as it bounded toward them. The troll's weapon swung low and knocked Claeo off her feet. Then in an afterthought of rage, the beast swung the beam of wood at Losswen.

The poor woman had never seen a troll much less been this close to one before. She was frozen in fear as the beast threatened to crush her. Yet out of nowhere a blast of fire came and struck the troll in the face. Its blow swung high and Losswen ducked, the wooden weapon taking off several more shingles from her roof. Through the chaos and falling debris, she looked up and saw a small dragon circle the beast just out of its grasp.

She saw Claeo lunge at the creature's legs slashing them with her flaming sword. Surely this Claeo was some sort of magician to wield such a weapon. Not only that, but her eyes were glowing like fire. The troll's focus shifted back to Claeo and the girl took off down the street. The huge beast continued to chase her and before Losswen could process the whole encounter, they were gone. The small dragon landed nearby and Losswen nearly screamed with fright.

"Are you hurt?" the creature asked.

"No," was all Losswen could say.

"Good. Please make your way up into the city. It isn't safe here." With that the dragon flew off after Claeo and the troll as they continued to fight their way down into the city.

Losswen looked up towards where everyone was running and then back down where Claeo and the troll had gone. Doubt filled her mind.

* * *

Claire was amazed that she had been able to keep her balance. Jumping from rooftop to rooftop hadn't been something she chose to do, but rather something she _had_ to do to avoid getting hit with Troll-Morlyg's beam and sailing away through the air like a golf ball at the 18th hole. When she had finally hit the ground in front of Losswen's house, the pauldrons that Laemellon had given her took the full brunt of the fall. She was amazed that landing on her shoulders didn't do more damage. Apparently Laemellon's shoulder armor was extremely efficient.

After getting knocked off her feet, she had returned to the strategy that seemed to work: go for the legs. Troll-Morlyg was quick, but not quick enough. Laemellon had distracted the beast enough for her to get a blow in and soon the creature was moving away from Losswen and her poor, now even more damaged, roof. Indeed, running away was Claire's go to strategy in video games. If your enemy isn't close to you, then they can't hit you. Unless they had ranged weapons of course, but this troll didn't seem to qualify for that unless it decided to throw the wooden beam in its hand.

Laemellon flew up above, contributing a fireball as many times as she could. The fire hurt Troll-Morlyg which was surprising and encouraging. They were almost to the gate of the second level now and the troll was close behind. Claire had an idea that was a long shot, but even a long shot was worth a lot in this situation.

She found a section of wall that had no buildings on it and nothing except a small barrier to block anyone from the long fall down to the second level. Below was a tall wooden shed built against the stone wall.

Claire turned back to the troll that was lumbering toward her.

"Come on!" she yelled goading the beast on. "Is that all you've got?"

Troll-Morlyg roared and charged. Claire held her ground until the last minute. The troll bore down on her, swinging its weapon. The young girl ducked and swung at the creature's left leg. Catching the beast's appendage and slicing it with her sword, Claire looked up to see the creature fall forward, breaking the stone barrier and tumbling headlong over the wall and down into the second level. There was a great crash of wood and splinters as the beast fell into the shed. She looked down and saw the carnage below. The troll had been pierced with many pieces of wood and she wondered if this was at last it. Had she won? Was Morlyg finally dead? She had to be sure.

Several people that were running up out of the second level saw the whole thing. A cheer went up all around her, but Claire didn't care about praise right now. Racing down the nearby ramp, she ran down into the second level. As she reached the crushed shed, she stopped dead in her tracks.

The troll was gone.

She stood for a moment dumbfounded, trying to process what she saw.

A hand shot out from the side and grabbed her right wrist. She turned and met Morlyg's leering face. She was perfectly fine. How was this possible? Claire thought back to the orc form the demon had taken the first time and how she had regrown an arm by changing her shape. Did this mean killing a shape she took wasn't really killing her? It was like an extra life in a video game, completely expendable.

"I told you," the demon growled. "I'm done playing."

Claire's right hand, her sword hand, her good hand, was now restrained by Morlyg. The fallen maia gripped tighter, her hand wrapping around the cloth that held the calling stone to Claire's skin. Claire reached with her other hand, now burning with fire to force her to let go, yet before she could do it, Morlyg suddenly twisted her grip.

There was a sickening _snap_ as Claire's right forearm broke. Red hot pain shot up her arm as she screamed. The young girl dropped her sword.

At the same time, Morlyg drew her other hand up to her lips and licked her claws like she had done with the troll. She slashed at the girl, but a fireball from Laemellon threw her blow wide and the demon released Claire's broken arm. Instinctively throwing it up to protect herself, Morlyg's blow scratched Claire's injured arm. It left the tiniest of scratches, but it was enough to nearly double the pain shooting through the girl's body.

This was it. She was sure of it this time. Claire was going to die.

Overcome by the intense pain in her right arm, Claire lay on the cold stone street and wished she would die. Exhaustion was overcoming her as well and her vision began to blur. Where was Morlyg? Why hadn't she sliced her up with that red sword of hers?

As she felt the world slipping away, she sensed someone leaning over her. They were asking if she was ok but Claire didn't answer. She heard and saw no more.


	31. The Wound

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **16** Debate of the commanders. Frodo from the Morgai looks out over the camp to Mount Doom.

 **18** The Host of the West marches from Minas Tirith. Frodo comes in sight of the Isenmouthe; he is overtaken by Orcs on the road from Durthang to Udun.

 **_ . _**

 **The Wound**

For time unmeasured Claire slept in a feverish state. At last she awoke fully and her vision cleared enough for her to get her bearings. Looking around, she saw that she was on a cot in a large room filled with other cots, each one bearing a wounded individual. It seemed to be some kind of makeshift hospital. Several men and women ran back and forth giving people water and tending to their wounds. Claire tried to sit up, but cried out in pain when she put pressure on her right arm. Looking down at it, she could see that it had been wrapped with a splint and was swollen and tender. At her cry one of the women nearby turned.

"You're awake," the woman said happily. Claire blinked a few times to make sure she saw correctly. It was Losswen.

"How do you feel?" the young woman asked pulling up a chair and sitting down beside Claire's cot.

"What happened? Where is…" Claire hissed through her teeth in pain as she forgot about her arm again.

"Here, let me help you." Losswen reached over to a table nearby and retrieved a long linen cloth. She proceeded to make a sling around Claire's shoulder so that her arm would be held against her chest.

"Your elf friend is very valiant," she said as she carefully lifted Claire's arm into the sling. "She drove away the dark haired witch who was attacking you. And your...dragon...I don't know where she is. Before you were brought here, she stayed by your side looking after you."

Losswen looked Claire over and then helped her sit up a bit.

"I must go," she said. "There are many others who need care and they are beginning to transport the wounded into the Houses of Healing. They say that the King has come again, but I don't know what to make of that."

She patted Claire on the hand and then ran off to help the other nurses. Claire breathed deep. Her whole body ached like she had just run a marathon. She sat still, knowing that moving would only cause her more pain. Looking around she saw several people hoisting up the occupied cots and carrying them off. Apparently, there was better care in the House and this was only a temporary triage area.

As Claire watched, she saw a boy speed by calling out, "Aid! Aid please! Where is Mithrandir?"

Her ears perked up as he passed. Surely this had to be Bergil, Pippin's young friend, the son of Beregond. From the left, she saw a white shape come into view and Gandalf stepped into the room. He exchanged a few words with the young boy and then rushed past him and out of Claire's sight.

To Claire's surprise, the boy turned and saw her looking at him. There was recognition in his face and she looked away quickly.

"Are you the woman who fought that troll?" Bergil said excitedly coming over to her.

Claire hesitated. "Uh...what?"

The boy's explanation came fast and enthusiastically.

"I have a friend who's father was down in the city during the battle. He said that he saw a girl take on a troll. She was using some kind of magic and her sword was on fire. I told him that was silly, but he swore that his father saw it. He said that he saw her taken up with the other soldiers and brought here. Is that you?"

Claire could see the wonder filling his young face, so she humored him.

"Yes," she sighed. "That's me."

Bergil's wonder switched to indignation.

"That's not fair. You're a girl! I wasn't allowed to fight so why should you?"

Claire smirked at his immature remark and said, "Well I'm not just an ordinary girl." He blinked not comprehending what she meant. "I - I have special powers that help me fight. But don't tell anyone. It's supposed to be a secret."

Bergil smiled and offered his hand. "I'm Bergil, son of Beregond."

"Pleased to meet you," she said awkwardly shaking his hand with her left. "I'm Claeo."

The young boy leaned in close, dramatically looking from side to side. "Don't worry Claeo. I'll keep your secret safe."

Claire laughed and her chest ached a bit. "Thank you," she managed.

Bergil ran off to help with the move. As he did, Gandalf returned with Merry in his arms. The poor halfling looked like death and Pippin followed close behind, his face drawn with worry.

As they passed, Pippin saw Claire. He didn't stop or call out, but kept walking after Gandalf. Yet the look on his face was unmistakable. She knew that Pippin had remembered everything when he saw her up on the third level and in that moment her fears had come true. The look on Pippin's face was cold, his eyes intense and knowing as he looked at the young girl. "Stay away from me. I know what you've done. You're dangerous" was how Claire translated the look. And then, almost as quickly as they arrived, the wizard and the two halflings were gone.

Minutes later, two men came and bore Claire's cot up to the Houses of Healing. They were met by Elrain who instructed them to instead take her up to their room in the Citadel. As Claire was helped into her bed, she winced at the soreness of her muscles. Elrain helped her sit up and then, sitting down in a chair beside her bed, lifted a cup of water to Claire's lips.

"Eru was surely with you dear Claeo," the elf said. "If not for Laemellon, you would be dead."

"What happened?" Claire said weakly. "Losswen said you drove Morlyg off?"

"Indeed I did," Elrain said. "However, even I was not able to defeat her. I suspect that a blow from me will never be fatal to her regardless of my strength."

Elrain paused. She looked troubled, but then tried to sound more cheerful.

"It seems we have solved a small mystery," the elf said in a lighter tone. "You said that Frodo was poisoned in the other timeline by Faramir's knife. Well, we now know it wasn't a knife. It was Morlyg's claw."

Claire's eyes narrowed. "Her claw?"

"Yes, that's how she steals a form. Laemellon verified this when she told me about your other encounters with the demon. Her saliva is like snake venom and it also allows her to take someone's form when it is mingled with their blood. Thing is, most times to mingle it with someone's blood, they get exposed to the poison. The closer the scratch is to the heart and the deeper it is affects the potency. She scratched you ever so lightly on your arm. It was far enough away from your heart and so shallow, that it only made you pass out and break out in a fever."

Claire stared at the wall thinking. That made sense now why Morlyg had brought the troll hand with her. It was so that she could transform into the beast by mingling her venom with its blood.

"So the good news is you weren't poisoned," Elrain smiled weakly, but Claire could tell that she had other news to bear.

"What's the bad news," Claire asked softly.

"Your arm," Elrain lamented. "It will take weeks if not months to heal."

Claire could tell that there was more, but the elf was having trouble putting it into words.

"Morlyg is still out there," Elrain said at last. "She retreated with what was left of the armies of Mordor. She is no longer in the city." The elf looked intently at Claire and said, "I think she is going after Frodo and Sam. Last I saw of her, she was headed for the borders of that dark land."

Claire didn't know how to process this. She was not understanding what Elrain was getting at, but then her next words hit it home and stung as sharp as the pain in Claire's arm.

"You are in no condition to travel such a distance, on foot or on horseback. I don't see how you can go after her."

Tears began to well in Claire's eyes as she asked, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying, if there is a way to defeat Morlyg then it is not by your skill with a blade that it will be done."

"But that's what I'm supposed to do," Claire said, her volume level rising in anguish. "I have to destroy her heart. That's my task."

Elrain shook her head regretfully. "I don't know what to tell you. All I know is that you can't fight with your left hand. I taught you so I know. Even with your Realm Jumper abilities, you can't wield a sword."

Claire sat, mouth open, trying to understand how this could have been allowed to happen. Tears began to drip from her eyes as despair began to envelope her.

"I'm sorry," was all the elf could say. She got up and left the room and shut the door behind her.

* * *

Two days later, on the eve of the 17th, Elrain returned to check on Claire. The elf had been helping make plans with the captains of the west and only returned to their room late and then left very early. Each time she had been in the room, Claire had been sleeping. Laemellon was out stretching her wings when the elf came in and found the young girl sitting up in bed. She was staring blankly out of the window.

"How's your arm," the elf asked as she came into the room.

Claire didn't answer. She hadn't eaten hardly in the past few days and it showed. Elrain looked at her with concern.

"I've been very busy since I last saw you," Elrain said as she sat down in the chair next to Claire's bed. "I've come to tell you that I will be riding out with the host heading to Mordor tomorrow morning."

Claire turned her head slowly to look at her. "You will die if you go," she said flatly.

Elrain nodded. "I understand that."

"I failed," Claire said at last. "I was supposed to protect the hobbits. But now I can't even get to them. Even if I hadn't been wounded, I still couldn't help them. Mordor is on lockdown, at least in the big well known places. A horse couldn't do it and two hobbits with elven cloaks and a magic ring barely did it. This whole thing has been a failure from the beginning."

Elrain gingerly placed her hand on Claire's good hand. "You didn't fail, Claeo. You did everything you could have done."

"But it wasn't enough," Claire said her voice choked with tears. "The battle at the Black gate is going to be a bloodbath. Aragorn will die, Gandalf, will fall, and worst of all…" She trailed off, a sob twisting her face. "There will be no one left to pull that troll off of Pippin."

"It does look grim, but we mustn't give up," the elf said rising from her chair. "I know that I probably go to my death, but I haven't given up. Perhaps while you are here you can be thinking of what to do next?"

Claire looked up at her with bloodshot eyes. "Next? There won't be a 'next' Elrain. We are all going to die!"

"Don't you think I'm aware of that," the elf shot back. She glared down at the weeping girl and said, "But just because you can't wield a sword anymore doesn't mean your story is done."

"How can you say that?" Claire demanded. "I'm useless. No nerdy book knowledge can help now. Don't you get it? This is the end of all things. Morlyg has won."

Elrain pointed a finger at Claire and said, "Only if you believe she has. When I met you, you were a young naive child who thought she could take on the world. Two days ago when you fought that troll, I knew I was wrong and that you had changed. You are the Venë Faeur! You are a Realm Jumper. You have been given so much yet you sit here moping."

"But what am I supposed to do?" Claire cried with fresh tears. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. It's hopeless." She sobbed, her face in her good hand and her shoulders heaving.

"Stop this," Elrain said sharply. Claire looked up at her pathetically as the elf continued. "Laemellon told me how you shut yourself up in here during the day with the shutters drawn, mourning your injury. That all you wanted to do was sleep because you said that when you slept you didn't have to think. Well you know what? It's time to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Ask Eru for help."

"He hasn't spoken to me since - since before I fought the troll," Claire said brokenly.

Elrain was flushed with anger. She rummaged around the room until she found Claire's pack. She pulled out Claire's Bible and tossed it on the girl's lap.

"You told me once that this book contained the words of Eru. That it was how people in your world heard from Him. Maybe it's time you read it." The elf's tone was harsh and angry. Claire sank into her pillow. Sorrow had enveloped her so deeply for the last few days and now, if it was even possible, she felt worse.

Elrain strode purposefully toward the door. She paused and looked back at the tearstained human.

"I'm sorry we have to part this way." Her voice broke with those words. "Perhaps we will see each other some day again beyond death."

And with that word, Elrain left Claire alone in her room.

* * *

On the morning of the 18th, the hosts of the west left Minas Tirith. Claire, now well enough to walk, stood alongside Merry and Bergil as they watched the host march out of the gate and off towards the east. She could spot Pippin, the shortest person amongst the tall men of Gondor. A few rows back rode Elrain, clad in armor and seated upon a white horse.

When the last sign of them was gone, Merry and Bergil returned to the House. Claire stayed looking outward. The sun was shining and the air was fresh and clear, very different from what it had been for the past week. Claire felt that she needed sunshine. She had mourned enough and needed to at least think about what she would do.

She had given up. For two days she had thought about the situation and concluded that it was hopeless, that there was no way that she could fulfill her mission. Now sitting here under the warm sun, she still felt the heaviness of the situation like a stifling shroud. She sat down on a bench and reached into her bag that she had with her. From inside she pulled out her Bible. As she stared at it, the voice of Eru sounded in her head.

 _Why do you not believe?_

"Because there is nothing I can do. I am broken."

 _Do you believe that MIddle-earth is real?_

"Yes. I've seen enough evidence for that."

 _And yet you find it so hard to believe that I can work all things for good?_

Claire had no comeback for that.

 _I brought you here for a purpose. Not that you would believe in Middle-earth, but that you would believe in Me. Middle-earth is real and my power is even more real. Why then do you not believe in My power?_

"I can't," Claire breathed. "How can I believe in something I can't be sure of. I don't know your plans."

 _I promised that I wouldn't leave you or forsake you and I have shown Myself time and time again that I keep My promises. You do not doubt because there is no evidence. You doubt because you choose to do so. Because of your pride. Belief is a choice dear one. It always has been and it always will be._

Again Claire didn't have an answer. Yet in her heart she knew the truth: she was a hypocrite. Eru was right. She had the capacity to believe in the fantastic things of Middle-earth, but when things went badly she gave up. She had no faith.

Through this whole crazy adventure she hadn't opened her Bible once. She had often thought that perhaps she should have asked for something more useful. She had only asked for it because it felt like the "right" thing to do; the "good Christian" thing to do. And at the time she had thought this was all a dream.

Yet now, so close to the end of the story, in destitution of spirit and at the prompting of her now doomed friend, she was ready to read it. The words of Eru rang in her head, but they didn't change her situation from what it was. In fact they made her feel worse. She was a failure at her task _and_ at believing in God. She was pretty much the worst at everything.

Claire knew that sometimes faith requires an action, stepping out and letting the chips fall where they may. At this point she had nothing to lose.

 _Let go. Do not depend on yourself. Trust in Me._

Looking down at the book in her hand, she stuck her fingers into a random place between the onion skin pages. "Ok," she breathed. "It's all you Eru." Opening the Bible, she found that she had turned to the book of Isaiah. She huffed indignantly. Isaiah wasn't the most encouraging book.

Her eyes fell on the center of the left page. A verse grabbed her attention and as she read it, she felt as if the world around her had suddenly fallen silent. She read the verse again and again. Her eyes were wide. She looked up and around her to make sure she wasn't dreaming or losing her mind. No, she was still sitting on the bench on the edge of ruin.

 _When you pass through the waters,_

 _I will be with you;_

 _and when you pass through the rivers,_

 _they will not sweep over you._

Claire thought back to the gates of Isengard and how miraculously she had survived. Even Laemellon had been astonished at her resilience after almost drowning. She had indeed passed through the waters and they hadn't overcome her. She had survived.

 _When you walk through the fire,_

 _you will not be burned;_

 _the flames will not set you ablaze._

Then an idea came to her mind. An idea so crazy that it couldn't have come from her. As this course of action began to grow in her thoughts, she was reminded of something Galadriel had said coupled with what she had seen in the Mirror. Yes. It was a crazy idea.

 _You do not fight against flesh and blood, dear one._

The pieces were falling together and it seemed to Claire that something had changed.

 _Do you believe the words that you have read?_

"Yes," Claire breathed, tears filling her eyes. "I believe you Lord. But help my unbelief." Peace that passed all understanding washed over her. She looked down at her left hand again and balled it into a fist. She fixed her eyes on the distant mountains of Mordor.

"So be it."

* * *

Back in their lodging, Laemellon sat upon the couch looking out through the window. She also had despaired to see Elrain leave and was trying to decide for herself what she would do next. Her contemplation was broken when Claire suddenly swung the door open and came quickly into the room. She sounded like she had been running and the look on her face was odd.

"What is it?" the vanaloke said rising to her feet.

Claire's face was radiant and tear stained. "In the vanaloki army...didn't you say you used to practice carrying things while flying?"

"Yes," Laemellon said, her brow furrowing in confusion. "We were trained to bear weights by holding a rope in our hands."

"How heavy were the weights?"

"I'm not sure. Our measurements were different...it might be hard to calculate…"

"Could you carry a person on a rope?"

Laemellon looked at her warily. "I suppose, but even if I did, my arms would grow tired eventually."

"That won't be an issue," Claire said. "We are going to need some rope and maybe a few leather straps." She threw her bag on the bed and retrieved her cloak from the hook set in the wall next to her bed.

"Claeo, what are you getting at?"

Claire turned to the vanaloke and put her good hand on Laemellon's shoulder.

"The time for despair is over," she said. "We are going after Morlyg and by Eru we are going to stop her or die trying."

Claire stepped briskly to the door and began to leave. Before leaving, she turned and added, "I'm not very good at many things. Most times I'm the worst. But if there's something I know for certain in this life it's this…" She paused and took an excited breath.

"I'm a science nerd and I can tie one heck of a good knot."


	32. The Vessel of Fire

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019. March.**

 **25** The Host is surrounded on the Slag-hills. Frodo and Samwise reach Sammath Naur.

Gollum seizes the Ring and falls in the Cracks of Doom. Downfall of Barad-dur and the passing of Sauron.

 **_ . _**

 **The Vessel of Fire**

As the armies of Gondor stood before the Black Gate, two hobbits made their way up to Mount doom. Unbeknownst to them, another shape was moving across the barren wasteland. Weathered by days of sneaking and slaying her way into the black land, Morlyg could finally see her goal. Just as the book said, there they were, creeping towards the mountain. They stopped in front of the entrance to the chambers of fire, delayed by an attack from Gollum. Frodo ran on ahead and Sam stayed behind, shooing the horrible creature off.

Morlyg was running now, the mountain looming tall and black ahead of her. In a few minutes she would be at that entrance too and then she would at last accomplish her goal. The fine ash kicked up around her feet as she sped across the flat ground. The land ahead was dotted with rocky crags, but a clear road could now be seen heading up to the entrance of the mountain.

From out of nowhere, a wall of fire sprang up in front of the demon and she skidded to a stop. Ash billowed around her as she drew her sword. What was this now? Did someone think that they could stop her so easily?

She looked up and saw the vanaloke circling above. Fire rained down again and soon Morlyg was encircled in flame. The vanaloke circled again and again, first two and then finally three rings of fire surrounded the fallen maia. She laughed and called up to the creature above her.

"I see you young one," she leered. "Do you think your fire can stop me?"

The vanaloke didn't regard her. Laemellon flew off and landed on one of the rocky crags a few yards away. She didn't dare land on the ground. The area beneath them was growing hotter with each passing moment as the fires of the mountain became more and more agitated.

Morlyg turned back to the mountain. The rings of fire around her would burn her physical form, but she had shapes to spare. She began to walk through the flames, but took a step back when the skin on her left arm began to boil. Perhaps she couldn't get through as easily as she thought. The vanaloke had trapped her, but trapping her wouldn't stop her. Even if Frodo destroyed the Ring, she would still cause chaos. She would still ruin everything. She had read the book; there was plenty of room for that. Indeed this had never been about the Ring, but about those detestable halflings. They were the key to this story and she would slit every one of their throats before long.

Through the flames stepped the Venë Faeur, her shoes crunching on the glassy black stones that covered the ground. She walked resolutely through the first ring and then the second. As the girl stepped through the third wall of flame, Morlyg noticed that she had neither burn nor sign of smoke on her or her clothes. Her hands were empty and hanging at her sides, her right wrist bound in a splint. The hot air of the valley blew around them and the girl's hair billowed upward giving her the appearance of some otherworldly spirit, untethered by gravity or any other force of nature.

The girl stopped in front of her. Morlyg growled and spun her sword threateningly. Who did this child think she was? At first she had been fun to play with, but now she was in Morlyg's way and that made the demon angry. The other thing that didn't make sense was how she had gotten there at all. No sign of a long journey or indication of weariness could be seen in her face.

At last her opponent spoke, her voice resolute and unwavering amidst the thunderous rumbling and roaring of that barren land.

"You shall not pass."

* * *

Amidst the burning chaos of the land of Mordor, Claire stood before Morlyg, her empty hands tense at her sides. The demon looked as perplexed as she ever had, but then at last replied, "You dare stand in my way?"

Morlyg began to step toward her and Claire shot a glance at Laemellon. From her perch the vanaloke looked on in wonder and worry. This plan was madness if Claire was wrong, but they had both agreed that they would rather die trying than die in long awaited dread.

The demon lifted a claw to her lips and drew it back dripping with poisonous venom. She smiled and stepped closer to Claire. The young girl didn't move.

"I will enjoy wearing your form," Morlyg said. "It will be quite a shock to those vile halflings when their protector slits their throats. You are pathetic! Do you not realize who I am? I was there before the foundations of this world were laid. I consorted with gods and went to war with them. You, a child, dare defy me? You are a fool!"

Claire stared up at the demon towering over her. The whole scene was a hellish nightmare of swirling wind and ash. Her right arm ached as it hung by her side and looking up into Morlyg's twisted face, she prayed that she wasn't a fool.

"You have everything you need. Don't think about it too much. Just go up there and do it. It will all be over soon."

Claire's visage hardened resolutely as the voice of Eru asked, _Do you believe in Me, Claire?_

"Yes," Claire answered in her mind as the demon's venomous hand came down on her. "I do."

Morlyg swung her hand down at Claire's face. Claire's left hand shot up, the appendage now burning with blue fire, and caught the demon by the wrist.

"I wasn't there when the foundations of this world were laid," Claire said, her grip tightening on the demon's wrist and the fire from her hand burning brighter with every word. "But I do know the One who laid them. You are right. I am small, I am young, and I am no match for you, but the God who is above all the gods sent me here and gave me the power to vanquish you."

Morlyg's face twisted in horror as her wrist, held tightly by Claire's firm left hand, began to crack and turn grey like stone. Veins of hot blue fire snaked across the demon's flesh. Claire's eyes burned white hot and for the first time Morlyg was genuinely and utterly terrified of her.

"I am a fool," Claire said. "Yet this tale was built upon a fool's hope. A hope built on things we cannot see. A hope not built upon the abilities of men or magic, but on something greater. A hope that you will never overcome."

Morlyg shrieked and tried to pull away, but the young girl was too strong for her. A supernatural power was coursing through Claire's grip and it was eating away at the demon's flesh. Morlyg dropped her sword, the red blade clattering in the ashen dust, and clawed at the girl's hand. Her efforts were of no avail; Claire's grip was like iron.

Claire was now staring directly into Morlyg's face, her eyes burning, her visage grim and resolute. "By the thrones of the Valar and Eru Illuvatar Himself, you shall never touch the halflings or my friends ever again!"

Morlyg's right hand cracked completely and began to waste away. Suddenly her wrist disintegrated in Claire's hand and, much like the first time they had fought, a shockwave of energy burst from their contact. The rush of air snuffed out the rings of fire around them and Morlyg was thrown backward. The explosion struck the surrounding area so hard, that everything, dust, rock, and Morlyg's sword were blown away, leaving Claire at the epicenter of an ashen crater. She was still standing, feet firmly planted and her burning left hand still held in front of her.

But it wasn't over. Whatever Claire's fire had done, it was still doing it. Like a glowing edge of fire slowly making its way across a piece of paper, Morlyg's arm was wasting away. She lept up and scratched at her belt for her sword forgetting that it wasn't there. Her belt, badly burned by the explosion fell from her waist and thumped on the ground. Then the fallen maia saw her sword behind Claire and crawled past the girl to get at it. Claire, still a bit stunned at what had happened, didn't bother to stop her.

Grabbing her curved red sword, Morlyg sliced hard at her right shoulder, severing her disintegrating appendage from her body. This stopped the burning, but now she lay cowering, her own blood gushing from her shoulder onto the dusty ground beneath her. Behind her the mountain roared and shook.

Morlyg's belt and pouch now lay on the ground and as the young girl stepped forward, she saw a curious thing. The pouch had been partially burned by the surge of energy and the contents were plainly visible. Inside was a book bound in cloth which Claire assumed was the infamous copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ which Morlyg had gotten a hold of. Even as Claire looked, it was burning away and for a moment she wondered what Professor Tolkien would think about a copy of _The Lord of the Rings_ actually being destroyed by fire at the foot of Mount Doom.

Yet above all these things, one thing caught Claire's eye. There was a sticker on the bottom corner of the book's cover and before it burned away, she read what it said. On the sticker was a word in bright green machine printed san-serif font.

"Oxfam."

She spoke the word aloud and something told her that she would need to remember that word.

At last she looked back at Morlyg. She was cowering on the ground, rocking back and forth in pain. It was time to finish this at last. Claire drew her sword with her left hand, an awkward motion but manageable. She wouldn't need much skill with a blade to thrust her sword through her opponent's heart.

She stepped forward and Morlyg began to crawl away, scooting backwards towards Mount Doom, her eyes filled with fear.

Suddenly there was a thunderous boom. The ground shook and Claire was nearly knocked off her feet. Morlyg was about 20 feet from her now and crawling ever closer to the mountain. "Oh no you don't," Claire muttered and took a step forward, ready to deal the demon a deadly blow.

But she never got the chance. The side of Orodruin cracked and in a flurry of stone and ash, it belched forth a river of lava out onto the plain. Claire stopped dead in her tracks and Morlyg turned to look back behind her. A bubbling oozing flow of lava as wide as a freeway and faster than a freight train was careening toward them. Claire stared at Morlyg and realized she had no choice.

Claire ran. As she fled from the torrent of lava she managed to sheath her sword. Her arm ached with the movement, but she kept going, the fear of the hot river behind her driving her on. Before she could even begin to wonder, she saw it at last. A rope with a wooden board tied to its base forming a makeshift swing. Laemellon had come. Claire grabbed at it with her left hand and stepped onto the wooden board.

As Claire lifted off the ground, she looked back. Morlyg wasn't even trying to run from the lava. She sat on her knees, back bowed in defeat. The fire was almost upon her now. She looked up and Claire saw her face. Anger filled her eyes as the molten torrent swept over her.

Morlyg was gone.

* * *

Elrain was beside herself. Clad in armor from head to toe, she stood upon the field of battle dumbfounded at what she had witnessed. They had been hopelessly surrounded and a good many had fought and died. Yet almost as quickly as the battle had begun, it was over. The enemy retreated and Gandalf had flown away on an eagle. The area had fallen quiet, with only the sounds of wounded men calling for aid and their comrades rushing to help them.

What had happened? Gandalf had yelled above the din that the Ring had been destroyed. Could that be? Ever on her mind was Morlyg and the doom that had hung over Claeo. Standing there in the midst of the silence, her face, armor, and sword spattered with orc blood, Elrain wondered what had really happened.

She breathed heavily as the air began to clear. The dark clouds seemed to be breaking up and sunlight was illuminating the ground as it naturally should. Looking up at a break in the clouds, she thought she saw something flying. For a moment her heart jumped at the thought that it might be a Nazgul, but she knew that wasn't the case. The Nazgul were no more.

Claeo descended from above clinging to a rope with her good left hand. Her skirt billowed behind her and her hair was tousled and dirty. The bearer of the rope was nowhere to be seen, but Elrain caught the familiar flap of Laemellon's wings.

As the young girl touched down to earth, she staggered for a moment. Finding her footing, she looked up and saw Elrain, now even more flabbergasted than before. As the young girl walked toward her out of the smoky haze of the battle, the elf now saw that Claeo was covered from head to toe in ash. If she had been borne through the air, that was no surprise. The young girl raised a grey hand to her face and wiped some of the grime from around her eyes.

There they were, the elf covered in orc blood and the young girl covered in ash. A bizarre sight to say the least.

"By the Valar," Elrain said finally, her voice was breathy with shock. She looked up at the sky where she assumed Laemellon was still flying. She was speechless.

"We did it," the young girl said at last. "Morlyg is gone. She was overcome by a river of lava. I suppose that's enough to destroy her and her heart."

Claeo coughed and a puff of ash rose around her. She brushed her shoulders off with her good hand. Her other was hanging loosely at her side.

Elrain's eyes shone with tears as she looked at the girl.

"I - I can't believe it," she said at last, her voice cracking under the awe that had overcome her. "You… you flew. How did you manage that?"

"I rigged up a harness that we put around Laemellon's shoulders. She said that she had trained to carry weights on a rope. I figured if we could calculate her center of gravity, we could make a harness that would help her carry a person easily. Turns out it worked. Also from what happened during the Siege, it was evident that Laemellon's fire hurt Morlyg, so we used that to our advantage."

The young girl gingerly brushed ash off the wrapping around her splint and said, "You were right. It was not by my skill with a blade that Morlyg was defeated." She raised her left hand and examined it. "It was the power of Eru that defeated her. I was just a vessel. I am a vessel. And I have no doubts anymore."

Elrain rushed forward and embraced Claeo. The girl was surprised at the contact, but soon wrapped her good arm around the elf.

"I am so proud of you," Elrain said, a tear streaming down her face. "Forgive me for ever doubting you dear _dear_ Claeo." Pulling away and cupping the young girl's face in her hands she said, "You are indeed one of the most brave Realm Jumpers I have ever met. I am honored to call you my friend."

Claeo place a hand over hers and nodded.

Elrain laughed. "And I'm glad you weren't horribly killed too. That's definitely a plus."

Claeo laughed as well. It felt good to laugh after such a harrowing ordeal. The two of them turned toward the battlefield before them. There was a lot of work to be done in the aftermath of the Dark Lord's downfall.


	33. The Resolution

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3019.**

 **April. 8** The Ring-bearers are honored on the Field of Cormallen.

 **May.** **1** The Crowning of King Elessar; Elrond and Arwen set out from Rivendell.

 **Mid-year's Day.** Wedding of Elessar and Arwen.

 **September. 6** (After a long journey, the hobbits and Gandalf) return to Rivendell

 **_ . _**

 **The Resolution**

As the battlefield was cleaned up, many of the dead were borne away in honor. The dead orcs however were piled in great heaps to be burned. As Claire and Elrain helped in anyway they could, they got many strange looks by those who were there. Most had noticed Elrain riding with them, but the young girl was an odd sight. "Where had she come from?" was a question often asked. But that didn't matter at present. They were glad of any help they could get.

Suddenly from a few feet away, Claire heard a deep voice cry out. Running to where the call came from, she saw two figures standing next to a pile of dead orcs. Drawing near, she saw that it was Legolas and Gimli.

Gimli was frantically pointing at a very hobbitish looking foot sticking out from beneath the pile. Men ran up to help them and as they hauled the corpses off the mound, they at last reached the very large hill troll that lay on top of the poor Peregrin. It took a lot of heaving and lifting to get the beast off of him and when they did the sight was not an easy one. The hobbit was lying with his face pressed into the earth, his entire body black with troll blood. Indeed the position of his face was probably what saved his life. A small indentation in the earth had given him room to breathe.

The dwarf, not regarding any possible neck trauma or broken bones, leaned down and began to lift Peregrin out of the muck and mire he had been pressed into. Flipping the hobbit over, they saw that his face was a bit blue but he definitely wasn't dead.

At that moment, there was a great commotion as Gandalf returned with the eagles. As the huge birds lighted on the ground, they deposited the limp forms of two hobbits to the earth. Aragorn, who had been helping organize the aftermath, ran forward. Frodo and Sam were unconscious, but still alive. As Gandalf and Aragorn bore them up and carried them to join the wounded, men on every side gasped and wondered if these were indeed the periannath who had destroyed the weapon of the enemy.

Peregrin was taken up as well and the three hobbits were soon laid alongside the wounded. Gimli stayed with them all the rest of that day. As soon as could be managed a camp was made. Makeshift tents were set up and fires were lit and that night they slept on the edge of the black land in peace. The darkness had been defeated and all was now calm.

The next day messengers were sent to Minas Tirith at dawn. The wounded were prepared and the entire host began to make the trek south to Ithilien. All this time Claire and Elrain had helped where they could while Laemellon, who had gladly volunteered to do so, flew out and scouted the surrounding area.

After a four day journey they at last arrived in Ithilien. Pavilions were raised and the camp became like a village of tents throughout the wood. One large tent was made for the wounded and as many of them regained their strength, they rose and moved to make room for the more gravely injured.

Word arrived that a company from Osgiliath would be arriving soon with supplies and Claire surmised that Merry would be coming with them. Neither Frodo or Sam had woken up during the whole trek. Peregrin was another matter. He woke up on the last day of their journey to Ithillien. The first words out of his mouth were something about eagles, but he soon got his bearings and was filled in on what was going on. His face had been badly bruised and one of the doctors from Ithilien judged from the amount of pain he was in, that a few of his ribs were broken. And on top of that he had taken sick with a fever. Aragorn attended to him and a few days later his fever broke, though he was far from fully recovered.

On the eve of the first day of April, all had been set in order and the host was recovering beneath the calm hospitable eaves of Ithilien. That night Claire couldn't sleep. She was still processing everything that had happened even after many days.

Elrain suddenly stood in the door of her tent. "We need your help," she said. Elrain had been helping in caring for the wounded and she had also taken up the responsibility of head nurse. "One of the soldiers' infection has worsened. We will have to operate on him to remove the infection and we need extra hands in the pavilion."

Claire was almost glad of it, since she couldn't sleep and the distraction was welcome. As she entered the Pavilion she could see the rows of cots, not unlike the set up she had seen after the siege of Minas Tirith. Some were more gravely injured than others, but all seemed to be sleeping peacefully. "I just need you to stay in here and tend to anything these men need. They will probably sleep, but we can't spare anyone now and there at least needs to be someone here incase they need anything."

Claire nodded in the affirmative and the elf strode off and out of sight. A candle was lit and sitting on a table at one end of the large tent. Claire took it in her left hand and slowly began walking up and down the rows. All occupants were asleep. As she approached the end of the structure, she saw three smaller cots set apart from the others. These were of course the three hobbits.

She walked over to look at Pippin. He was sleeping with his head propped up to help him recover from his sickness. Claire pulled a chair over beside his bed and sat down. Walking around wasn't really needed right now. She set the candle on a nearby table and absentmindedly adjusted the sling around her right arm.

"I don't know Peregrin," she said softly, speaking more to herself than to the sleeping hobbit. "I've completed my task, but..." She turned to look at him. He was still sleeping and she continued.

"You were always my favorite character in this story. I always felt like you and I had a lot in common. I've always been the youngest wherever I go. And I'm always the one who messes up and says stupid stuff. Not that I'm saying you're stupid…" She started over. "I saw myself in you. But now I realize that you are much braver and wiser than I could ever be. In the midst of darkness you never gave up, but I did. I know I said it in a previous timeline, but I'll say it again. I'm sorry for what I did, Pippin. I truly am."

Claire stood up; it was time to make another round.

"I forgive you," a voice said softly behind her. She turned and saw Pippin looking up at her, his eyes reflecting the flickering light of the candle. She sat back down at his side. He had woken up before so this was no great miracle, but she wanted to be sure she had heard him for her own sake.

Pippin turned his head slowly, strain spreading across his face. He opened his eyes more and said, "I remember everything. Frodo, the Ring, running from those men." He paused, his eyes looking off into the distance. "The Wood. I remember it all and I forgive you."

Tears rolled down Claire's face. She didn't know what to say.

Pippin continued. "When I saw you after the siege, I was angry. But having a troll dropped on you can change your perspective." He managed a weak smile. "Even I can make ridiculous mistakes trying to save people. Nearly being crushed to death by a troll I just killed wasn't my most impressive moment."

"I always thought it was," Claire said with a laugh. She wiped the tears from her eyes and added, "You were very brave to save Beregond like that."

"Perhaps." Pippin began to cough and Claire got him some water. After he took a sip he said, "You know, as my thought was flying away, all I could think about were the eagles and I was reminded of Bilbo's story. He wasn't perfect either. None of us are I suppose. You did your best to fix your mistakes. I can't fault you for that."

The water works were starting again as Claire said, "Thank you Peregrin. That means more to me than you know."

She stood and took up the candle again. As she began to walk away, Pippin called after her.

"Claeo. I think you are brave and wise too. And I hope in the coming days we can be friends." He smiled and Claire smiled back.

"I hope so too," Claire said beaming. "I hope so."

* * *

The following days were brighter. Claire visited Pippin more often now, offering to look after him when she could. At last Merry arrived and at the sight of his friend, Pippin continued to heal exponentially. Merry remembered Claire and the three of them looked after each other and had wonderful conversations about the Shire, ents, and other tales from their adventures. When Pippin was moved to a more private tent, even Laemellon came to visit them.

As the days passed on, Pippin began to recover fully. On the 7th of April, he at last was able to stand and walk about which brought Gimli great joy. When Frodo and Sam at last awoke the next day, the dwarf took great pride in relaying his story of finding poor Pippin's foot sticking out from underneath the troll. By this time Pippin was well enough to be reinstated to his position and both he and Merry took up the duties of their service as knight and esquire respectively.

Pippin also properly introduced Frodo and Sam to Claire. When he spoke of how she had been one of the many people working in secret on their behalf, they thanked her profusely. The young girl was red faced and giddy with excitement to even meet the two hobbits, much less earn their thanks.

The hobbits were honored in Ithillien and soon they were all making their way back to Minas Tirith. Claire, Elrain, and Laemellon followed as the host returned and on the day that they entered the city there was great celebration. As they made their way up into the city, the citizens of Minas Tirith came out cheering. The whole things was like the most joyus parade that Claire had ever seen. The young girl and the elf walked side by side and behind them came Peregrin and Merry along with other members of the fellowship.

As the host came to the gate of the third level a group came out to meet them. Claire was delightfully surprised to see the person at their head.

"Claeo!" Losswen cried wrapping her arms around the girl. Claire gave her a one armed hug and when they came apart, Losswen turned to the crowd and cried out, "She has returned! Claeo the troll slayer!"

A cheer went up as the citizens repeated Losswen's cry. The boy named Bergil, Pippin's young friend, squeezed his way through the throng of people and stood next to Losswen. "And hail to Peregrin son of Paladin! He too has slain a troll!" Bergil shouted. "You both are the great troll slayers of Minas Tirith! Hail!"

The crowd cheered louder as Claire and Peregrin stood side by side, awkwardly accepting their praise. "Hail to the troll slayers!" was the repeated cry and Losswen clapped her hands with joy. And then suddenly, Claire didn't feel awkward anymore. Here she was, acknowledged as a hero and standing next to her was her friend and fellow hero of Middle-earth, Peregrin Took. Somehow it felt right and for the first time in her life she actually felt like she belonged somewhere.

As the host continued to move up into the city, Claire and Elrain lagged behind at the request of Losswen.

"My dear friend," the young woman said. "I owe you my life and so much more. Please will you give me the honor of hosting you and your friends? I have a kettle of hot tea brewing. Oh please do stay! I want to show you the new roof of the house. It's just a roof, but I would never have been able to have it repaired without your help."

Claire beamed. She remembered what Samwise had said about all the sad things coming untrue. That was indeed how Claire felt as she, Elrain, and Laemellon had tea with Losswen. The young servant of the steward didn't seem to remember anything about the previous timeline and Claire had peace that it was not something she needed to worry about. She had her friends back and Claire knew that it was not by her hand, but by the hand of the One in whom she believed.

* * *

Days back in Minas Tirith were happy indeed. The Coronation and the Wedding were the main two highlights. At last the day came for them to leave. After spending nearly two and a half months in Minas Tirith, Claire had started to think of it as home. Her heart ached as she bid farewell to Losswen who offered to let her stay in her house and under her new roof if ever she returned.

The journey back across Middle-earth was long, but Claire wouldn't have traded it for the world. They were practically retracing the steps of the story back through Rohan, past Helm's Deep and up to Isengard. Before they reached Isengard, Elrain bid Claire farewell but promised that she would meet them back in Rivendell when all was done.

The ents were particularly impressive and Claire laughed hard at Samwise's reaction to them. If he thought the oliphants were amazing, then he might have changed his mind after meeting Treebeard.

The company met up with the Lady Galadriel and a group from Lothlorien after that. By the time September was getting on, they at last saw the shining lights of the valley of the Last Homely House.

The Elves of Rivendell welcomed Laemellon in with open arms. Word had been sent from Lothlorien of her presence and the Lord Elrond himself welcomed her with the utmost honor and admiration. Elrain arrived as the sun fell behind the western rim of the valley. At last she and Claire had returned to where it had all began.

* * *

"So how does this story end?" Elrain asked.

They were sitting in the garden outside the guest house of Rivendell. The same place they had sat together nearly a year ago drinking tea and making plans. Now the sun was setting on their first full day back and the sound of the distant waterfalls seemed to be lulling the land into sleep.

Claire sat back in her chair and took a deep relaxed breath. Cradling her tea in her hands she looked down at her right arm, now fully healed.

"The hobbits return home without Bilbo," she said, her gaze drifting westward. "But their fight is not yet over. There is a battle waiting for them in Hobbiton. Yet compared to the perils they have faced, they weather it well. Samwise plants the seed Galadriel gave him and grows the only Mallorn tree west of the mountains. He also gets married and eventually becomes Mayor of Hobbiton. Merry becomes the master of Buckland and Pippin becomes Took Thain, both worthy titles to be sure." Claire took a sip of her tea.

"As for Frodo," she continued. "He never fully recovers from his scars. Just over two years from now, he is given the privilege of sailing across the sea with the elves. Both he and Bilbo sail to the Undying Lands."

The two friends sat in silence for a moment as the sun continued to set in hues of red and purple.

"They all live happily ever after."

Elrain turned to Claire and smiled. "A good ending then."

"Yes. A very good ending," the young girl said softly.

"Yet you seem sad," Elrain said setting down her tea.

Claire sat still, her eyes looking down at her right arm. "Isn't it funny, Elrain...we long for adventure, but when we are in the midst of it we can't wait for it to be over. Yet when all is said and done, we find ourselves wishing the story wouldn't end. When I read this story for the first time I cried. I didn't want it to be over. When I read this story I felt…I felt…"

"More alive than you ever remembered," Elrain finished. The elf gave her a knowing look. "I know. I feel the same way at the end of most missions. But there will always be another. Another task. Another puzzle to be solved."

"Not in my world," Claire lamented. "I get to go back to being a child again, with all the boring things that come with it."

"Life is only boring if you let it," Elrain said. "You dear Claeo strike me as someone who will never be bored ever again."

Claire looked up at her friend and smiled. She was sad and happy at the same time, an emotional combination she hadn't really experienced before. Sad because soon she would have to leave and happy because just as Eru had told her, everything had worked out in the end.

"Yavanna said I would end my journey when my heart is ready," Claire said. "I'm not sure if my heart will ever be ready to leave Middle-earth."

Elrain sat back in her chair and stretched her neck lazily. "Well, what is the last thing you would like to see before you leave?"

"That's just it. I would love to see the end of the story, when Frodo goes across the sea, but that is two years from now. And something tells me that I'm not meant to live in Middle-earth for two years just for that."

"Perhaps you don't have to," Elrain said. "What day exactly does Frodo go across the sea?"

"I think it was the 29th of September."

Elrain looked off into the sunset again and smirked. Claire could sense that she knew more than she was letting on. The elf looked as if she was going to laugh.

"I'll see what I can do."


	34. The End of the Story

**_ . _**

 **The Lord of the Rings: Appendix B**

" **The Tale of Years"**

 **Third age. 3021. September.**

 **29** They come to the Grey Havens. Frodo and Bilbo depart over the Sea with the Three Keepers. The end of the Third Age.

 **_ . _**

 **The End of the Story**

A few days later Elrain announced that she would be leaving Rivendell and that if she was willing, Claire could come with her. In fact the elf strongly suggested it.

"I have something...a possible way for you to see the end of the story. But you have to come with me to do it," she had said. Claire's heart was torn, but a part of her knew that it was time. The story was moving on and she no longer felt she had a part in it.

It was the eve of the 27th when Claire found Laemellon pouring over books in the Rivendell library. The vanaloke had traded her traveling clothes for a dress that the elves had made for her. Indeed they treated her like royalty and she wanted for nothing in the whole house.

"What are you reading?" Claire said as she approached her friend. The vanaloke sat at a candle lit table overflowing with scrolls and books of every shape and size. She looked up, her long face arching gracefully upward.

"Claeo, welcome! I've just finished reading a record of the second age. Have you read elvish history? It's fascinating!"

Claire laughed at the enthusiasm of her friend. She had never seen her so enthralled before.

"I've read a bit," Claire said smiling. "I'm glad you enjoy it. Not many have the patience to read such tales." She paused as Laemellon examined another page. Claire awkwardly rubbed her hands together trying to think of how to begin what she had come to say.

"Elrain is leaving Rivendell day after tomorrow," she said at last.

"Oh. And are you going with her?"

Claire was surprised that she had guessed it. "Um, yes. How did you…?"

The vanaloke looked up from her book and said, "You and I shared a mind once. I can't read your thoughts at present, but I know how you think." The vanaloke smiled softly and said, "I think you should go with her."

"But what about you," Claire asked sorrowfully. "You came to help me. I abandoned you once and I...I don't want to make that same mistake again."

Laemellon rose from her chair and strode over to her friend. "As far as I know that never happened," she said. "And even then, I know as well as you do that you cannot stay here forever. We all must return home eventually. Even I must cross the sea and return to my people. Yet in recent days, I too have learned to hear the voice of Eru and He has told me that I am to stay in Rivendell until an appointed time."

Claire wondered at her friend's admission. "He's spoken to you too?"

"He has," Laemellon replied. "And I agree with Him. The elves have been more than kind to me here. I think that of all the places we have visited, this place feels the most like home."

The vanaloke paused and looked at Claire thoughtfully. She bowed her head and the young girl thought she saw a tear in the vanaloke's eye. "I should have done this long ago," Laemellon said. "I must ask your forgiveness."

"For what," Claire asked incredulously.

"When we first met, I took no thought for your life or for the lives of the halflings. I wished to receive the glory for Morlyg's downfall all for myself. Yet after she almost killed me at the falls, I knew that I was a fool. I was sent to protect the Venë Faeur. I did not want to accept that as my destiny. Yet now, here at the end, I see that Eru's path was better than I could have imagined."

"I forgive you Laemellon," Claire said smiling. "I had my own faults as well, but I wouldn't have changed anything either."

* * *

On the morning of the 29th of September, Claire and Elrain prepared to leave the Last Homely house. Claire felt a bizarre sense of deja vu as they stood in the courtyard, the faint light of the rising sun cast golden hues on the trees. Once again it was very early, too early for any of the hobbits to be up. Claire was sad not to bid them farewell, but conceded in her own mind that this was best. There was one thing different this time however: Elrain had a long staff made of a dark wood with her. An interesting item she claimed she had picked up on her journey between Isengard and Rivendell.

As Claire adjusted her pack, she looked up and saw Laemellon coming out to see them off. She looked very different from the first time Claire had seen her. Her face was no longer grave and serious, but rather bright and hopeful. The vanaloke strode forward and without a word did something that surprised even Elrain.

Laemellon wrapped her arms around Claire in a tight embrace and with this Claire began to cry. The two friends exchanged goodbyes. In the end Claire offered up the calling stone to Laemellon, saying that she wouldn't need it in her own world.

"It shall remain in Rivendell," Laemellon said. "If you ever return to Middle-earth you can find it here. I am forever at your service, dear friend."

And with that final word, the two friends parted. Claire and Elrain walked westward out of the very gate that Claire had entered on that first day when Elrond had met her. Glancing back at Rivendell, its silhouette lined with the silver glow of dawn, Claire wept again. Laemellon was right. It felt like home.

The elf and the young girl walked a day's journey until at last the sun was beginning to set. Claire sat down on a fallen log by the forest path and said, "So how exactly do I get to see the end of the story?"

Elrain lifted up the staff she had carried with her and walked to the dirt path that they were traveling down. She slowly drew a line in the soil with the bottom of the staff and stood back. The line she had drawn glowed a luminescent green and Claire marveled at it.

"This staff," Elrain said. "Is a relic that I was given recently. It was made in a long forgotten world, by people who were the most impatient race known to the Realm Jumpers. They were always looking ahead and never back."

Claire stood and examined the rod of wood. She now saw the strange runes and markings engraved on it. Three symbols glowed in the ancient wood. They had the same green luminescence as the line drawn in the dirt before them.

"They say," Elrain continued, "that when one steps across the mark of the staff, one can move forward in time and space to the point of desire. However, there are stipulations. First, you can never move backward in time, only forward. Second, it can only be used three times." She pointed to the three symbols. Apparently this staff had never been used. "Such power comes at its limits I suppose."

Things were starting to make more sense now. Claire looked at Elrain amazed.

"I thought you hated time travel and that it was really dangerous?"

"I can make an exception every once in awhile. Consider this a gift," the elf said warmly.

Elrain came and stood by Claire and took the young girl's hand in her's.

"Are you ready," she asked.

Claire nodded and they stepped across the line.

Like the flip of a switch, they were suddenly in a different wood. The trees were of a different kind and they could see the sun beginning to set through the trees ahead of them. Yet the most noticeable thing of all was the sound that drifted their way up through the forest.

Claire gasped and ran forward through the underbrush. Elrain followed after her. Coming out of the line of trees the young girl skidded to a stop. Before them lay the sea, shining in all its beauty. A few buildings dotted the shore and old stone docks jutted out resolutely. Not too far away, one dock harbored a beautiful elven ship and upon the dock stood several people of which five were hobbits.

"I think you should know," Claire said brokenly. "I cried when I read this part and I may cry now."

"That's quite alright," Elrain said putting an arm around her friend.

The two watched from a distance as Frodo and Sam said their goodbyes. The ship was boarded and the vessel sailed off into the sunset. The hobbits stood alone watching the ship disappear over the horizon, like three faithful watchers, unmoved by the steady winds that swept across the shore.

As Claire stared at the scene before her a familiar verse came to her mind and before she knew it she was reciting it out loud.

"Guided by the lonely star

Beyond the utmost harbor bar.

I'll find the Havens fair and free

And beaches of the starlit sea.

Ship my ship, I seek the west

And fields and mountains ever blessed.

Farewell to Middle-earth at last

I see your star above my mast."*

They were both silent for a moment until Claire said, "Thank you for this Elrain. The story is over. I'm ready to go home."

The two friends embraced.

"Thank you dear Claeo," the elf said. "I pray your future is filled with adventure."

Claire laughed, tears flowing down her cheeks.

As Elrain gazed into her eyes, the elf said, "But now it is time for you to wake up."

Claire tilted her head in confusion. Why would...

* * *

Claire Berhart opened her eyes and saw the white painted ceiling of her bedroom. She rolled over and checked the time. It was 7:00 am and time to get up. Claire sat up slowly rubbing her temples. She had been having the craziest dream, yet even as she tried to recall it, the memory was gone. Something felt different somehow. When she looked at herself in the mirror that morning, she wondered at her own appearance. She shook her head and wrote it off as not enough sleep.

The months that followed were uneventful with the exception of the premiere of the final _Lord of the Rings_ movie. Sitting in the theater, Claire was just as enthralled as the others sitting with her. But when the story drew to an end, she found herself overcome with an emotion she couldn't understand. She wept through all the multiple endings to Peter Jackson's film and as Frodo sailed across the sea, something familiar smote her heart: a sorrow mixed with joy that she couldn't adequately describe.

Soon 2003 was behind them and 2004 was well underway. Her father got the idea to build a rope swing from a particularly large tree deep in the woods outside their house. His design consisted of a rope with a plank of wood set into the base. Claire spent hours on it in the afternoons and many remarked at how naturally she had taken to it, most times hanging onto the rope with only her left hand.

She also continued to draw, but now her drawings were different. Pictures of Pippin in his Gondorian armor were frequent in her sketchbook as well as the dragon creature design she had made. The elf also popped up now and again. Yet a new character was slowly taking shape. It was a young girl with flaming hands and glowing eyes, bearing a flaming sword to match.

Claire's church life went on as it had in the past with one exception. Now when she read the Bible a feeling akin to warm nostalgia swept over her. Studying the scriptures was no longer a chore, but more like remembering an old friend you once had. There was something about her belief in God that felt more solid, yet she could never put it into words.

Life was fairly normal and so was Claire, and for nearly six months, that's the way it was.

Then one evening, Claire was curled up in an easy chair in her parent's living room, sketchbook in hand and ready for movie night. Her parents were a fans of old movies and as they were perusing the selection on TCM they came across the 1962 film "How the West was Won." As they watched the film, many of the characters, including Debbie Reynolds, sang a song that caught Claire's ear.

 _Away, away, come away with me_

 _Where the grass grows wild and the winds blow free_

 _Away, away, come away with me_

 _And I'll build you a home in the meadow_

 _The stars, the stars, oh, how bright they'll shine_

 _On a world the Lord himself designed_

 _The stars, the stars, oh, how bright they'll shine_

 _On the home we will build in the meadow_

 _Come, come, there's a wondrous land_

 _For the hopeful heart and the willing hand_

 _Come, come, there's a wondrous land_

 _Where I'll build you a home in the meadow_

This of course was sung to the tune of Greensleeves, the song Claire had loathed playing all those months ago at her piano recital. Yet the more the characters in the film sang, the more Claire could have sworn she had heard the song somewhere else. Somewhere where there were pools of water, trees, and fresh grass. Somewhere where the haunting melody was sung by an ethereal voice that bid her take up an epic quest.

And then…

...Claire began to remember.

* * *

*"Blibo's Last Song" by J. R. R. Tolkien


	35. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

"Do you understand things better now?"

"I do," Elrain responded. "The staff was exactly what she needed. A fitting end to her journey. Thank you for lending it to me." The elf handed the staff back to the person in front of her.

Elrain's informant replied in a deep tone, "Claeo's story is far from over. There is much darkness that lies ahead, yet Eru is faithful. Your story is not over either, but I cannot tell you about it of course."

"I understand," Elrain said. "I - I dare not ask what brought you here, but I must at least be told this: Is it him? Is it the aberrator you are chasing? Is that why you have that staff?"

The informant turned away and didn't answer.

"Or perhaps at least tell me this," Elrain offered. "You know things. I get that. It makes sense. But there is one thing that I have trouble understanding. Why did you even contact me?"

The informant turned back to the elf and said, "When you have seen what I have, you will understand."

The informant paused and turned toward the east, the night sky lit with stars and shreds of cloud.

"Sauron is defeated, but evil still lurks in deep places. The catalyst draws close. I must stay in Middle-earth until my task is done. That is all I can tell you."

Elrain turned to go. "Thank you," she said awkwardly.

"There is no need," her informant laughed. "But I'll accept it nonetheless."

And with that Elrain slipped on her Realm Jumper ring and left the lands of Middle-earth behind.


End file.
